Above and Below
by MalenW
Summary: A fan writing of a Wolf Hunt for those who romanced Solas
1. Begin

**Chapter 1:**

**Begin**

_ It has been a long year for the one we all call Inquisitor.  
>Once a simple spy, lost in a remnant of the Elven Clan Lavellan.<br>She now holds one of the most powerful thrones in all Thedas.  
>It's hard for some to believe, even still, that the people would see reason in an elf.<br>However, the world is changing. Hope it seems has for the most part, outweighed prejudice. _

_ After the defeat of Corypheus, the world all stopped to look upon their Herald.  
>In all hearts and minds, she had been sent by the Maker and spoke the very words of Andraste. She wielded the power of the Gods and in so much, is now looked upon as a God herself. But, you'd never know it looking at our Inquisitor our leader.<br>Her kindness and glowing spirit stretches through even the darkest of corners.  
>She has built a refuge for the Mages and her fortress is a place of welcome to all who seek it.<br>To some however she is a darkness, powerful and fierce.  
>Her reach goes farther than any have ever experienced in this life.<br>To her enemy, she is what pride had wrought, a fake, the Pretender, they call her and they still aim to lay her waste. Even so, the people of Thedas see her as their champion and they continue to support the Inquisition as the fight endures past the fall of Corypheus._

_ Today, I am to meet with her once more. For though her battle with the demon has since passed. There is so much more to come for our Herald. _

Pages scattered across her desk, stacks of books have taken over her walk space.  
>There is still so much to learn. Traditions challenged, belief shaken. Finding answer seems an impossible task.<br>"I swear, I have found more use for these books in my fireplace than in answers." A sigh accents her frustration while she sets down yet another disappointing read.  
>"Dare I say, that I must agree? No wonder your people seek to murder royalty in the cover of night, this is utter garbage." Standing from the comfort no longer found in his chair.<br>"I never quite new what had happened, or why.  
>I just know that the songs of my people are almost quiet and it seemed wrong<br>as if nothing was in balance. After, our battle, I am just left seeking more.  
>There must be something out there." Standing into a well needed stretch, indentations still mark the place she just sat. Another long day of research has left them with very little to go on.<br>"Ah, yes, and we still do not even know how much further this game is to go."  
>"I never really liked the game, Dorian." Walking off from the rotunda, she leaves her friend to get some fresh air. Tired eyes, busy minds, time has left its mark on both of their faces, a good rest seems overdue.<p>

Dorian, much to his own surprise, spends entirely too much time researching the Elves.  
>He often makes light of it during the drunken nights of playing Wicked Grace with the friends<br>who still fill the halls of Skyhold. All of them do, actually. In their own way.  
>A history buried in rubble and forgotten ruins. Not even the crypts of their dead have gone without looting or disturbance. Each of them know, they have a part in bringing back something lost to time. While others, like Leliana still seek for their own answers and have reaffirmed their commission to the Maker. They still know, that finding answers to any of this, will help them all.<p>

As for Solas, none of them have any idea of him, beyond speculation.  
>Though, the Inquisitor still has hope in her heart, everything she does, is for the people.<br>Yes, a tale as old as time. But, what is to come, may change everything once more.

Half asleep on her desk another morning breaks into view over the snow-covered mountains.  
>The light filling her room and brining a hint of warmth, she feels a slight tug at her consciousness.<br>She has come to know this feeling all too well. In a way, he has almost become a part of her.

"What is it Cole"? She looks up half aware.

"Someone is coming for you, there are so many voices, old and new singing together.  
>But, don't be afraid. They will not harm you." He remains standing near her side.<p>

A knock on her chamber door. "Inquisitor? Inquisitor?  
>Inquisitor, you have a visitor, I think you'll want to speak with."<br>The scout stands waiting at the door.

Her heart stands still, heavy, beating comes back slow and hard.  
>Filled with hope, genuine and full.<br>Walking out of her chambers, she feels unsteady. Unknowing.  
>She swallows one breath, closing her eyes she steadies herself.<p>

Directed out to the garden, the cool air meets her skin. The garden radiates with life.  
>People's laughter fills the area as they still speak praises to their Herald. Mother Giselle tends to the spiritual needs of those who still seek out the familiar comfort of the Chantry. The simple herb garden is only the backdrop to the faith that the people hold. Its purpose fulfilled, a place of healing.<p>

A familiar form stands in front of the gazebo. A face she had not seen in many months.

"Morrigan?" Her face lets on a trace of surprise.  
>"I assume I am not who you were hoping to see." Morrigan, always showing a shadow of what she knows, takes a polite bow.<br>"I'm sorry, no. I never know what to expect. However, you are a welcomed face."  
>"Ah, always the shining example of etiquette Inquisitor, we have much to discuss, I hope I have not come at a bad time."<br>"I suppose that depends on what we are discussing?"  
>"Inquisitor, I know you have been very busy juggling the burdens that come from a place such as yours.<br>I can only imagine how busy you must have been, playing in the political game."  
>"I do my best, Morrigan. How may I help you?"<br>"Straight to business, are we?" Morrigan narrows her eyes looking Lavellan's face over. "Very well.  
>The last time we saw each other, I was still shaping the secrets from the Well of Sorrows.<br>There was so much to go through. So much I needed to organize before I met with you."  
>"I hope this means you have come to share."<br>"Yes, we must be cautious. I am still bound to Mythal and I do not know all that may come.  
>Yet, the voices have pulled at me recently and it seems, once again, you are the only one who can help."<p>

"How am I not surprised"? That well known smirk flushes across her lips.

"I may not know of what you truly seek, Inquisitor.  
>I do know, that there is more in your soul than the desire for power.<br>I feel that I might be able to help in your endeavors as you help me."

"In what way do you mean"?

"There is very little you know of me, Inquisitor." Morrigan lets down her guard, falling into her adviser role softly. "I once was in a position where I was lost from answers I needed for my heart. I am a friend, but I also need you as so many others. I can tell you this.  
>We may not find the answers we want, but answers we shall find.<br>If you are interested, meet me Val Royeaux, we have so much to do."

A visit to the war room, Lavellan surrounds herself with her advisers.  
>They have become quite proficient at the game.<br>Lavellan knows that she walks a path unclear, friend or foe; it is always a gamble.  
>Leliana puts spies in place around the kingdom. "We can never be too sure, Inquisitor."<br>Cullen, longingly looks at the Inquisitor, "Please be careful, I will have a stand of troops ready at your call." "Inquisitor, I will have the place of your meeting secured and every dignitary distracted at a simple party, so to give you the privacy needed upon your arrival." The ever alert Josephine, always looking for a chance to host one or her now famed soirées, jots down a note on her writing board.  
>"With Cassandra in her place as Divine, I do not want to disrupt her from her duty just yet,<br>but send word so she is aware." Leliana nods in cooperation.

With everything in place, Lavellan takes a moment to gather herself; knowing this journey will be long.  
>Walking into the room he once sat, studying and painting her story on the plastered walls.<br>She looked over the images of the mural one more time, knowing in her heart that the story was not finished.  
>That night, she dreamt more deeply than she had since the fall of Corypheus. She had not quite mastered hardening her heart to a cutting edge, never wanted to. But, she had stilled it for the sake of the people. This night was different. This night, was for her.<p>

She fell into her slumber deeply, allowing herself to feel through the veil. Dreaming in places she could return to when she felt the memories slipping away. In dreams, she could at least feel the echoes of him.  
>Between the crashing sounds of blades and magic clashing against their enemies; the days at camp washing the blood out of their armor and stories around the camp fire, the deep drinks when the party returned to Skyhold; she rarely had these moments. Moments where she could forget the world she carried. He was the only thing that she knew she couldn't defeat, nor did she want to. It was a moment where her heart could break free and all she wanted to learn, was more about his touch.<p>

Her dreams always end the same, he walks away. The words forcing their way through her,  
><em>No matter what happens next, remember what we had was real<em>.  
>The worst parting ever written in any story.<br>_Was real_… echoed into the veil.  
>She remembers falling to the ground after he walked away, she never clung to the ground so hard in her life. She just wanted to fall through it. She could have, she could have just let go.<br>This night, there was nothing but the traces of his touch.

Orlais was changing. Marquise Briala and Empress Celene are working hard to bring the elves and humans together. A hard fight masked in broken history but if any could do it, it would be them. Leliana was correct in thinking that change needed force. However, with the right pieces in play, the people of Orlais did not need much of a push. Celene and Briala became an iconic symbol of the romanticism the people secretly held. Every era needed a Romantic Period and this played well in the Orlesian Courts.

Finding themselves in the alley way of Val Royeaux, face to face with a mage tied up and kneeling beside Morrigan. She was obviously not trusting of the human.

"Inquisitor, I am pleased to see you have made it.  
>I wanted you to see for yourself, the threat we face.<br>He is a mage who has been trying to walk the fade as you have.  
>Silly fool, does not know what he is asking for."<p>

"I am not the fool, you are!" The mage transforms into a rage demon, lashing out in laughter.  
>They subdue the demon with little difficultly, sending the mage into his death. His body lay on the ground.<br>Broken and defeated, nothing about him sticks out as unusual.

"He wanted to change. He was tired of not knowing. Wanting, waiting, if only I could see more. He did not care that it was dangerous." Cole stood up from the body. "He is gone now."

"You see Inquisitor, there is a threat that can undo everything.  
>There is a large following of people, who want to challenge your very walk in the fade.<br>I am sure you know the dangers of this."

"Go on." The Inquisitor affirms her knowledge of the danger.

"There are many secrets that are held in the fade.  
>Many people thought to have brought the spirits forth,<br>to question and subject these spirits to them, to gain the secrets and knowledge they hold.  
>Bringing a spirit forth, upon its refusal turns them into demons, as you well know.<br>Since you have walked, physically, in the fade.  
>Now many are trying this approach and are ever so close to achieving their goal.<br>Do you see the dangers that comes?"

"Breaking into the fade just for knowledge, it seems idealized?"

"If, Inquisitor, we are to ignore this. We could lose so much more than knowledge.  
>We could lose the foothold you all have worked so hard for.<br>Your place challenged, Inquisitor, your place in the very heavens.  
>As for entering the fade, maybe you could leave that to me."<p>

Morrigan always holds something back, while eluding to something deeper. Today is no different.  
>"I suppose you would be our guide then? Morrigan, Keeper of Sorrows?"<br>"Actually, Lethallan, you have a much grander spirit guiding you. However, I can help.  
>For I am not entangled in the welfare of your heart, just your success."<p>

"He is healing the hurt. His song is spreading. But there are more with him…and darkness… he … still hurts."  
>"Yes, Cole. Darkness indeed." Morrigan states with firmness.<p>

"When do we begin?"

"Always ready and eager are we, Inquisitor? First we must make a short visit.  
>For where we are going, we will need more than weapons.<br>If I may speak with you first, before we depart? Please meet me back at Skyhold garden."

Lavellan wastes no time in meeting with Morrigan, eager for answers or direction of any kind.  
>Directed to the room holding the eluvian, Morrigan lets on little.<br>"We must speak in private, Inquisitor."  
>Opening the door way through the eluvian, the magic's swirl and they step through meeting once again, in the place where all roads meet.<p>

"Now that we are alone, I must ask you. What do you know of Solas, Inquisitor?"  
>"Solas? Honestly, what I thought I knew, I'm not even sure of."<br>"But, you two were… alone at times." Eluding to the romance the two elves had shared.  
>"Yes, we… had something." Lavellan serenely stated, forcing the word <em>had<em> out of her lips.  
>"He removed your vallaslin, did he not? Did it not strike you odd that a mage could just wave his hand and remove a vallaslin?" Watching her closely to gain insight on the elf standing before her.<p>

"It was done in a private moment. One I have not forgotten.  
>One that felt like nothing I have ever experienced. It was so much more than I had ever…"<br>Feeling lost in the memory, her focus fades. Shaking her head to pull back to the conversation  
>Morrigan watches the elf closely. "Ah, yes my point - something much more. What would you say if I told you that Solas, was much more than he led on? "<p>

"Honestly, Morrigan, nothing will surprise me."

"Surprise is not what I am looking for, nor would I think it of you.  
>But, do you think that maybe, it really wasn't you?<br>Maybe he just couldn't bare the shame of not telling you and allowing… whatever it was you two had … exist without you knowing the truth?" Morrigan clearly pushing to see if Lavellan still cares for the elven mage.

"What do you know of us, or Solas, Morrigan?"

"I cannot speak for him, but I myself have had to make choices, choices that took me from the ones I loved. I know the regrets, I know now that some sacrifices are not needed. I just wonder if he knows."  
>"How would it matter if he did? He is gone, he said it could never be in this world."<br>"And yet you still wait for him. You still look for him.  
>And as Cullen has so graciously exasperated, you have yet to seek out the touch of another."<p>

"Why are we talking about this, Morrigan? Does this have something to do with our journey?" Showing her frustration at the guarded topic, the elf pulls her arms up from their relaxed posture. A gesture to represent that she had enough of this game. The mist rising around the two woman of the unused broken roads, floats steady in the air filling the moment, echoing the abandonment she feels inside.

"I am simply preparing you Inquisitor. If we do meet our old friend.  
>It seems his power has grown, but as the spirit of compassion has so stated, he still feels … something for you." Her gaze challenging Lavellan's will, she has no intent to ease it. "He led you to Skyhold and fought by your side up until the orb lay shattered, have you not considered that without the orb, he could not stay?" Provoking the elf unconcerned with her gestures.<p>

"I have gone over a lot of different variations in my head, Morrigan. But it always ends the same. He left me, without answers, broken… I just…" Tears begin to break through her mask. A show of retreat from the subject, she will not fight the witch to hide from what is true.

Satisfied with her answer, she closes out this encounter. "Well then, it seems like our adventure may bring more to light than just the defending of your honor." Morrigan, did not need to hear anymore. She knows the look in the Inquisitors eyes. She knows that Lavellan has not stopped loving Solas. This will indeed change the game.

"Well, then Inquisitor, let us begin." Morrigan brushes her hand in the direction of the eluvian.  
>A gesture to begin an end.<p>

So many emotions now stirred in the elf, yearns to be freed of the walls that surround her; insistently pulling her to a peaceful place. Her spirt desiccated, thirsting for the calming whispers of nature. Very few serene places exist for her as she has marched these lands with her blades drawn. She must remember the peaceful moments, the beauty. Lavellan grabs her mount and heads toward Crestwood, to stand in the place of her last private moment with the one who has stolen her heart. She has much to think on and a lot more to understand. Her spirit friend Cole follows at a distance, for her hurt has reopened stronger and is calling to the spirit of compassion. His blades he may have sworn to her, but his friendship he extends freely.

Walking to the old ruin, taken by the memories of the elven mage, Solas.  
>Her flesh soaks in the dampness that rests in the air, whirled around by the falls pouring into the ancient bathe. She has not visited this ruin since the two elves had stood here marking their end.<br>Though the darkness looms, the moonlight drops down enough for her elven eyes to see clearly.  
>The halla standing with great height facing each other, shadowing the memory of the two elves who faced each other in this place, the path to a place of lost love.<br>She remembers their bond; how real it burned within as he pulled her in hard against his shape.  
>The way he held her hand soft with intent and meaning.<br>Leading her here, a moment for just the two of them to share. The beauty fell too quickly.  
>His eyes spoke to her deeply as he freed her from the lie she wore on her face. He gave her freedom. Holding onto the love they shared, she maintained her focus on the moment that still weighted heavy in her heart. There is a beauty here, haunting as it might be. <p>

Images of his fighting form as he guided his staff pulling and shaping magic, his arms held tight around her in a dance at Halam'shiral. Once a great elven city.  
>She remembers the feel of his lips, soft causing her face to flush. The way his body wrapped around hers when he kissed her. Though they never had sex, the feelings he left her with fill her more deeply.<br>Everything is unwinding from memory, she has kept these memories restrained.  
>Laying down gently by the side of the water, tracing her hand around the ripples her touch makes on the once still form. Her heart is full once again, a feeling she had denied herself since he left.<br>Glowing even brighter than before, she has forgotten what it felt like to allow this love in.  
><em>- Only in small doses - <em>she would say, but tonight, she hoped he would feel it.

Cole was not the only spirit who cared for their story.  
>Just as Solas had spoken of the spirits who would lean against the veil to see the Hero of Ferelden.<br>Many spirits would do the same, to feel her love, sadness, and hope.  
>They reveled at the chance to feel her light.<br>But, tonight, they need not lean, for her heart was so open that it rang throughout the veil around them.  
>Her tears soaking the air, and her warmth lighting up the small ruin so much so that Cole could barely even see her. She forgot how much power was in that feeling.<p>

"Lathbora viran." Whispering into the veil around her.

The spirits stirred that night, some weeping, some glowing, and some smiling.  
>It was a moment that many of them longed to feel forever. A love in its truest form.<br>Imagine the sex some snickered, imagine the day when this can be!  
>Oh, let them find each other again! Where has he gone? Is he safe, alone?<br>The spirits echoed, filling the veil with the remnants of longing, left behind as she walked out  
>making her way back to Skyhold. Her spirit freed again.<p>

Cole, weeping inside for both of his friends, leaves behind a small parchment; placing it on the spot she just lay. 


	2. The Meeting

Recruiting her closest allies, the party ventured out with Morrigan.  
>Meeting with resistance, from the seemingly always present bounty hunters and<br>challengers that wish to make a name for themselves by besting the Inquisitions leader.  
>The party keeps their fight sharp and focused. It was odd to not encounter fade rifts anymore. The world almost seemed, eerie without those ghastly encounters. Had they really become so used to a world of demon fighting?<p>

"Boss, please tell me we are going to fight something big." Iron Bull expressing his excitement of another mission with the Inquisitor Lavellan.  
>"I'm just more curious of why we are following the witch?" Dorian always places his pieces.<br>"Dorian, tell me, what exactly do you do to keep the look of perfection while in battle?" Morrigan reminds him of her cunning plays.  
>"Never mind, Inquisitor. Carry on." The finely groomed mage replies in self adoration.<br>"So, Morrigan where exactly are we going?"  
>"Honestly I do not know, precisely. But, I do know we will know it when we get there." Morrigan admits.<br>"Wait, so you really don't know either?" Dorian sighs." I just love our little adventures sprung out of nowhere, to nowhere."  
>"You see, the person or spirit that we are going to meet, has not actually ever really been seen or found for that matter. Where we must go is a place no one, until recently has even known existed." A playful avoidance, Morrigan steadfast in her refusal to give any more information.<br>"Right when you think there is no sense someone comes along and shows you there is even less." Iron Bull weights in.

"Morrigan, can you tell me more of what we are attempting to meet." Lavellan containing the conversation.  
>"Well, it is known as a ghost, but I know it is more than that. I feel it is a sentinel being who has long-lived among us. It is said to take on the form of many animals and people. What of this is lore? We shall see."<br>"And how do we know if we find _it_?"  
>"It finds us, Inquisitor." Morrigan shuts down any further discussion on the matter.<br>Coming up a mountain path, the land opens up to a vast valley. It's imbued with emerald trees filling the valley like a green sea. Nothing particular stands out beyond the vast forest. Nothing that would draw anyone's interest.  
>"Ah, a forest, I should have guessed" Dorian mumbles exposing the assumption he had secretly made.<br>As they walk down a narrow path, the open green lands begin to cover in shade and boast the emerald trees that fill this forest. Entering this dense land, they are overcome with a heavy feeling.  
>"This place feels wrong." Lavellan breathes out, knowing this disturbing magic.<br>"They know we are here." Cole whispers meaning to warn his friends.  
>"They protect this forest very well." Morrigan sets the mood.<p>

Traveling down the very narrow and sparsely worn path, rocks and roots make the terrain unbalanced.  
>The forest tops send shining green light down to meet them, as the wild forest boasts its untouched splendor. For a moment they seem completely absorbed in this forest. Surrounded indefinitely. Glimmers of golden armor seen sparsely along the path.<br>Within moments however, the trees seem to part ways and reveal a small fortress. Slight in the valley of large snow-covered mountains. The majestic glow from the peaks sends a light down on the greenery of the village. The stone village, worn with age, still standing in beauty among the surrounding forest. There are figures, which have not been seen in ages, carved in stone towering over the village. Guardians, elven hunters with their wolves at their sides.

"I can't believe a place like this still stands. Morrigan, how did you find this place?"  
>"I find many places in my travels, inquisitor."<br>"I've never seen so many elves in one place before." The Inquisitors eyes scouring the area she has only pictured from stories of legend. As if they were transported in time, the group walks up to this forgotten village. A place, during this age better off forgotten than suffer as many of the other clans have, left to wondering the lands. These elves were different. They had a hold of the area it seems, for ages. They survived, unknown.

Morrigan leads the way to her contact, a small elven mage. Dark hair, rests long pulled from his face, his light eyes search over the faces; his own free of vallaslin. He introduces himself as, Tirith and leads them to meet with the village Keeper.

Inside the fortress they are surrounded by the painted images of old elven kin, maybe they are the ancestors or gods. One can only guess, as these things have been lost for so long. Woven baskets still boasting the plants of the roots they protect. Magic still weaving its song. It's alive, it's not a tomb filled with worn and broken down remains, or a book written in someone else's hand. This is all real, but how can it be?

"Andaran atish'an Da'len, we are honored to have you among us, I am Keeper Beren." A sense of pride fills the white-haired elf's eyes who stands adorned in the ancient elven robes of a mage. Though his voice holds age, his face remains youthful and strong.  
>"Ma serannas Hahren, I am happy to meet you. It is surprising to see that a place resembling Elvhenan, exists."<p>

"The adahlen and durgen have been good to our arla, however, we are losing some of what protects us, da'len. The humans have found us as you have and we struggle to endure, suledin. It is good that you have shown up as you did. We may need your halani da'len."  
>"Whatever you need, Hahren Beren, all you need is to ask."<br>"There are bandits in our woods and our hunters are disappearing, the magic that held us has been affected by something in the area. If you could help in any way, it would do us much good."  
>"I will do all that I can."<br>"I thank you. Dareth shiral."  
>It is clear that they were aware of the parties plan to visit. As most anyone else would have not been met with such a kind entrance.<p>

Heading out of the village, met by a worried elf, she asks for help in finding a hunter who has not returned home. "We must show our support, Inquisitor. They hold much knowledge of your people." As the group explores the area killing the bandits, clearing caves, they begin to find traces of information. These leads pointing them, in shaky hand written notes on the bodies of their foes or placed on tables in the camps set up in various areas of the forest.  
>"It seems that there is a mage encampment in these woods near, I wonder if that is what is bringing in the bandits?" Lavellan reads one of these notes as she stands from the body of a warrior who had just met her blades.<br>"We must investigate." Morrigan encourages.  
>Continuing up the narrow dirt path, they meet with a steep bank, over grown with foliage. Stone steps still holding their place in the incline. A clearing at the top gives way to a smooth stone surface. Elven carvings line the stone floor leading to the entrance of a large cave.<br>The mages have indeed secured a well-established encampment. They will put up a heavy fight, so the group must proceed with caution. Lavellan cloaks herself in shadow, signaling Morrigan to cast a barrier.  
>Cole turns invisible as her enters his spirit form. Dorian begins to twist the fabrics of the fade preparing to mark a target to aid them in battle when it falls to Lavellan's blades.<br>"The air feels very dark here."  
>"Indeed it does."<br>"We should stay mindful."  
>The party undivided on the darkness they feel in the air.<p>

Walking up closer, cautiously, they are met with the realization that the entrance to this cave has been covered in Lyrium. The blue crystals shine brightly against the reflecting snow. It's as if they covered the cave entrance and inner walls entirely with lyrium.

"Now that's a lot of lyrium" Iron Bull states cautiously.  
>"What in all Thedas do they need all that for?" Dorian expresses concern, knowing the power that is drawn from that much lyrium.<br>"It is not safe here. They are cold… wills twisting, voices screaming. No, it's not the way! They don't listen…I don't like it here. Cole twisting his ever moving hands, completes the fears.

The opening, guarded by a few mages and their guard. The fight is challenging, but the party overcomes. Looking for any clues or items pointing to answers they find the missing hunter, his body lay like a mummified corpse, completely drained dry. There is obvious dark magic being used, blood magic. Piles of bodies drained dry, line the interior walls as the group makes its way into the cave. It is not long before the group is met with more force. Lavellan stabs her blades into the first victim covering her in his blood, while Dorian raises a wall of fire to divide the room. Iron Bull is steadily beating down the largest guard with his massive hammer. Cole has stunned his foe and is now cutting him with a quickness unseen. Even with Morrigan's help, the group struggles through each section as they make their way through the cave, filled with powerful mage's. A small break in between and a random cache here and there allows the party to rest, clean off, and wrap up wounds before meeting the next. This gives the group time to look around and take notice of how large the cave is with what appears to be rooms, a realization that this is more than a mere cave. Walking up to the rear of this lyrium enveloped ruin, a large stairway, wide and steep meets their eyes. The steps glisten with a stone never seen before. It sparkles and shines, radiating warmth

"Inquisitor, I'd be very careful. I do not think that is normal stone, nor steps. There is a magic here. The whispers tell me…_Tel garas solasan, Dirthara ma._"  
>"Yes, Inquisitor, maybe you should go first" Dorian says always hiding his worry in jest.<br>Lavellan takes a very wary first step, the stone lights up golden in color sending the magic up into the air. A sound echoes throughout, stirring whatever lay within.  
>"Well, she didn't blow up, that's good."<br>"Dorian!"  
>"Well, it's true."<br>"Someone is calling to me, it hurts. I must get to her." Cole being pulled at hard now.

They make their way up the long stairs to a door, like the ones seen in Solasan Temple.  
>This one is already filled with the stones shut tight, still.<br>"Curious." Morrigan says enjoying the irony.  
>"Well, Morrigan, does the well whisper anything to you now?"<br>"Yes, knock."  
>"Knock? "Lavellan turns her face in the mannerism of question, checking to see if it was jest.<br>Morrigan nods, in the suspicious way she does.  
>Lavellan looks the door over and uses the handle of her dagger against the stone door.<br>A voice echoes out in might, "So you dare to come here. To knock on my very door. Very well."

The door opens to a sight none could be prepared for.  
>Above in a cage is a bright golden light, shining hard and full, small spirits are falling like rain around this large entrapped sphere. Below is a powerful mage, clearly corrupted, darkness in his eyes set behind his human form.<br>"What are you doing here? What is going on?" Lavellan shouts out.  
>"Pretender, you have come too late. With the power I am about to obtain, you will never stop me from reaching the fade. My very being will walk among her kind and they will give me the secrets I wish for or perish."<p>

"Ar tu na'lin emma mi. This end now!" The battle cry answered by her companions.

The contest is not easy in any way, even for the party whose skills dominate the otherworldly. Spells constantly bashing into the mage, blades slicing, twisting, and stabbing. Everyone is at their limit, facing death. As a moment breaks Iron Bull knocks the Mage into a wall, it crumbles behind him, revealing a lever. Abruptly in a hushed moment, the mage becomes trapped in a glowing light, frozen but not by ice.

"Inquisitor, get to the lever" Morrigan shouts!

Pulling down on the heavy lever, the cage opens, releasing the light above. The light comes down hard, on the trapped mage. Shaking the cave, swallowing him spirit and all. For a moment it sits in stillness before being absorbed into a petite female frame. Her long glowing hair turns from golden to white. Her skin, to a brilliant pale, and her eyes no longer shine gold, but return to a deep dark grey that stir the feelings deep inside those who look into them.

"Ir tel'him … then! Thank you". Her voice like a sweet whisper.

She stands, very small, but clearly a woman elf. Silk robes trimmed with gold wrap around her tiny frame in the manner of royalty, letting just a slight view of her golden armor underneath shine through. Her features show a youthful beauty as her ears expose her race pointing out of her white hair.

"Holy Shit! It's a … girl… or elf… or … person" Bull states no longer able to contain his thought to himself.  
>"She is happier now." Coles face reflects the delight he has in this moment.<br>"Are you, a spirit?" Trying to grab at some sort of clarity, Lavellan's word are lost to the moment.  
>"This is the one we came for." Morrigan's astonishment is clear as her face holds the look of adoration for what now stands before them all.<br>"Yes, keeper of sorrow, I am glad you heard my calls." Meek and simple, the elf breaks her silence.  
>"Oh, was that what that was?" Morrigan still looking on as if she just met the Maker. These moments always please and excite Morrigan, her joy is ill maintained, like a child given a gift.<br>"Compassion, I am sorry they blocked you, come here to me." Cole walks over to this mysterious elf, without fear. Her hand placed on his face, she moves to place her forehead on his, barely reaching from her tiptoes, Cole bends to meet her. A soft light leaves her and lightens his total being.  
>"There, now it will be harder for them to block you, you will have more strength to not let them control you." She whispers in a calming motion.<br>"I… I can hear. More… I can feel, like its real with form. I can move it!" Coles says with a tone of excitement! "Thank you." A heartfelt appreciation expressed.  
>"You have been weak, holding this world as you do, but we can exist and still be strong here."<br>"So you are a spirit like Cole?" Lavellan asks again, grasping for an explanation.  
>"My existence is not so easily defined, Lethallan. We, as in us all are spirits, we are also with form. So, I am more like you, than I am a spirit. I hold the blood of ages, I hold the song our people once sung. I can exist physically in this world for as long as needed. I can also soften my physical form for a time and join with my people in spirit. I am here and there, above and below." Her voice like a song you can't stop listening to, soothing and strong.<p>

"And so tiny, too." Bull says with endearment.  
>"We are meeting an ancient being and all you can focus on is how tiny she is?" Groaning over his giant friends comment, Dorian rarely mutes his point on any topic.<p>

"I am called, Muin." She takes a bow in delicate grace. Returning to her warrior disposition she makes sensible demands in a surprisingly unexpected command. "We must leave here. Where my presents used to protect our remaining kind, it has now put the people in danger and I fear more may come. This mage is not the only of his kind and staying here will keep the people at harm."

"We would be honored to have you, Muin. Any aid the people may need will be provided."

Before the group departs, Muin accompanies the group in releasing the control of the wards and barriers set around the valley, re-powering them with her light. As she casts the last one, the village disappears into the forest, against the mountain.

"Our people are safe again." Her ancient voice like a blessing.

(Muin joins your group. Her talents include, a mixture of duel blade, stealth, and magic healer/destruction with light. She does not need a staff for her ability, but can switch between staff and blade or cast in one hand and blade in the other.)


	3. The Forgotten Door

The Forgotten Door

Back at Skyhold, Lavellan takes some time to get to know their new friend. A familiar feeling stirs within her as if she has known this elf.

"Muin, it is an honor to have you here at Skyhold."

"Ma serannas Lethallan. Ma melava halani. It's as beautiful as I remember, you have done well to bring the beauty back. I am sorry it still holds sorrow for you, Lethallan."  
>"You've been here before?"<br>"Many of us know of Tarasyl'an Te'las. It has been ages since anyone spoke of it."  
>"So, you were not always living in that cave?"<br>"Not always, there was a time before. It was my place of refuge; once a temple. It was my place of duty, to protect what it held. The Lady of the Well, she kept us. Most of my troops still roam the forest and keep the people hidden. I listened to the whispers of old and have felt and watched through the fade what has happened to our lands. It has brought us all great sorrow." "You must have so much knowledge, I honestly did not think I'd ever find… anyone."  
>"You have walked with us for longer than you know, Lethallan. Looked after very carefully, guarded. Things will come into as they should, we cannot force these things; it is halam'shivanas. I know your calling and I will help guide you through. Other than saying this, I am not the one who holds the answers you seek, da'vhenan. Mala suledin nadas."<br>"I understand, I think."  
>"There is much to do, Lethallan. You will have answers, Dareth Shrial."<p>

Retreating to her quarters that tower over all of Skyhold. So many thoughts, always so much on her mind. From her balcony, she can lose herself. This place has become her home. It has kept her grounded. Nothing quite fills her heart, as much as waking up the old ruins of her people, her people … I still don't even know them, yet I will fight if that's what it takes… she thinks to herself. It is nice being back, Skyhold. She whispers into the mountain air.

She is longing for her dreams now, she sips her tea remembering the look on elf's face, while he gulped down the beverage that kept him from sleep. Images only she found endearing. Memories, overflow around her when she is back at Skyhold. How can they not? The fire is blazing its warmth now as the elf is nodding off, still wrapped in her armor, she slumps to the floor resting her folded arms on her bedside. She lays her head to rest, too tired to care.

Come to me, ma sa'lath.

She reaches out of her form and falls into the fade. It has become the only place she feels real anymore. Not the real she has been for the people, but the truest form of herself, wondering in dreams. She has met with spirits along her walks. Many glowing brightly to see her. Some even walking with her a while, asking questions of her and the world she shapes. She does not mind the company in dreams and the same kindness she shares with her people, she shares with the spirits she encounters. But, her journey remains for one reason, her heart. Walking up to a form that resembles the cave where they rescued Muin. It begins to fade away becoming real, like the time before. The temple is without the lyrium cave, it's out in the bright light and she can see the beauty it had once held on the land. As she walks up the same glowing golden steps she awoke before, met with a feeling deep and pure, filled with love, and cloaked sorrow. She knows this feeling.

"Emma lath" the familiar voice whispers.

"Ma vhenan?" She speaks softly, trying to contain her pounding hope.

"You are getting closer, you must keep going. You must wake up."

She starts to stir, trying to hold on to the dream, "ma'arlath" the voice fades off leaving her with a full chest and an aching body, forced from the dream. She finds herself, shed of the armor and comfortably placed under her blankets, no longer confused by waking up in the presumably unexplained. One more of the little things she is learning to see for the gesture it is. Finding peace and purity in these moments, she finds no fear in what many others may find haunting. This is not to say that she does not have her physical needs, to her it's a pilgrimage, a show of her devotion to the one who has her heart. Nothing unusual for the elven kin, matters of love are not based on mere physical actions. Awaiting the day where he will disrobe her and take her for his own, a natural mindset. It's her secret to keep in her heart, for the many that surround her would think she has gone mad with the idea that dreams can fill her with enough love, to not need the immediate physical pleasure.

Reporting in, she discusses the next step in the plans with Morrigan and her three advisers.  
>"We need to find those who are hunting the secrets, Inquisitor. Muin, has yet another piece to the roads, and with that we must find out more. Something big is forming and we cannot be left to find out unprepared." Morrigan firmly states.<br>"I agree, Morrigan. What leads do we have?"  
>"Right now very little, but if word has spread that you have destroyed one of these factions, I am sure more will open up quickly. They will try to go into deeper hiding, which means they have to move."<br>"Which means, I will have my spies everywhere, including places we never thought to search." Leliana exposes her sly posture. "This will be our only way of knowing where to go, from here."  
>A quiet knock interrupts the moment. The group of advisers looks at each other in question.<br>"Someone should answer that, yes?" Morrigan states in her undercutting way.  
>Lavellan welcomes in the small elf, who has obviously evaded the guards. Muin walks in uneasy in posture. Everything unfamiliar and new. She guards herself heavy.<br>"I am tasked with helping you all. We know we cannot face this alone. It is nothing new for people of this time to try to assault the very heavens, but to destroy the memories and spirits of knowledge? This poses a risk to everything my people have fought so hard to protect. We have gained strength above, but we know that we need even more below, here." Focused on her task, not even a moment of introduction to the three advisers standing in the room. Cullen looks her over finding much respect in her focus of her duty. Josephine admires the way she has ties her hair and the lovely silk that mark her as royalty. Leliana watches closely, searching the elf deeply with her gaze.  
>"Do you know of something that can help us, Muin?" The Inquisitor asks in calm mind.<br>"Yes, Lethallan. But, I must go somewhere where our voices will not scatter. Please meet me where our feet meet soil, Keeper of Sorrow please join us."  
>"We will keep working on any leads on our end, Inquisitor." Cullen voices the sentiments of the council as any one commander would in the presence of another.<p>

Meeting Morrigan and Muin in the gardens Lavellan is lead to the eluvian that Muin holds.  
>"This door has long been forgotten, along with its magic. The magic guarding it will keep anyone from locating it. My magic, is the only thing that the ones who seek our demise can find. I, however, will likely be hunted. I know my fight well."<br>"I appreciate everything you are Muin, we will see to your protection."

Muin casts her charge, the key to this door. The door shines forth the calming magic and the three woman step through. Finding themselves in another section of the crossroads, it seems much the same as the area the other eluvian leads to, abandoned and ethereal.  
>"Fascinating, I know this place," Morrigan looks around in comfort, "This is good, we are closer…to … something."<br>"To something?" Lavellan looks with confusion.  
>"Yes, we are. Once these roads lit up with greetings, the emptiness brings much sorrow. Though, I am glad, in a way, for we would have nowhere to hide from those who hunt us." Muin settles the mood, "we are closer to the place we need, but it is not held in this passage." Morrigan joins in answer, to allow Lavellan in on the purpose of her visit.<br>"There is a door, which will lead us to the one with answers. They are hidden well, finding them will prove challenging, though we must try. For there we will find answers most intriguing." Morrigan's eyes deliver the cunning taunt at Lavellan's many remaining questions.  
>"There is something else, we must tell you Inquisitor. It is about you."<br>"About me?" Her curiosity expressed in a concerning way as the elf folds her arms.  
>"Yes, well more specifically, your blood." Morrigan looks at Lavellan, trusting that this is the right time to tell her. "It was no accident that you were at the Temple of Sacred Ashes when you were. Your Keeper, charged with protecting you if the day ever came that we would be facing a time of possible peace for your people. You, being the last that was born with the song of Muin's kin, though not fully. Your mother a dalish healer cast out by her clan. Your father, he comes from Muin's clan, he once was a guardian who felt the pressures to not let his people fade. He spent many years searching for another elf, until he came across your mother searching for shelter. Their love grew and you brought into the magic. It is the reason you were sent to the temple. With your blood old and new you could be the eyes the people needed.<p>

"A half-blood sent as a messenger, why not one of you?" Lavellan trying to understand how that makes her any different.  
>"Our kind cannot walk freely as you can Lavellan, they have to stay hidden in the magic, or our life fades as a mortal. We do not have the choice you have, even as you still carry a piece of our song. Do you understand?" Muin makes clear the importance.<br>"So what will happen now that you are with us?" Lavellan questions the clear situation.  
>"I carry the gift of light, I hold the song." Giving a slight explanation of her ability, her only reply.<p>

"Yes, it is also why you can dream and fade into the veil so easily now that you have physically been there, why we will be able to take you into the fade again. The enemy that awaits will figure this out soon and will come for you. Their ultimate sacrifice, is you."  
>"So even without the magic, I am the key once again?"<br>"The mages can enhance your old blood and access the fade, physically as you have. Just as they can with any of the elvhen remaining that carry the blood of ages. However, you are the mystery they know of, while our people are hidden, you are not." Muin informs her elven friend.  
>"I assume Corypheus never figured that out." Lavellan expresses in a bit of disbelief.<br>"No, he did not. If truth be told, not all secrets were at his disposal."  
>Morrigan leads on as if she knows more. Something strange hides behind her mask, something that is pulling at Lavellan's will. It's nurturing and kind, but brash like a mothers scold. Pulling herself back to the conversation, Muin's words come back into focus, "we have not all gone and you can help us reach the ones who are hidden in the beyond. You are the remaining hope for our people's return here. Without you, all will remain hunted and eventually killed."<br>"So you see now why protecting you, keeping you from any human contact before was more important than maintaining your heart?" Morrigan eyes the Inquisitor causing her spirit to stir. The witches magic working for answers.  
>"Does she know?" Muin asks.<br>"Do I know what?" Lavellan demands as one wtih concern.  
>"No, not yet, but she will soon enough." Morrigan says with confidence.<br>"I suppose neither of you are going to explain." Lavellan says shaking her head in frustration.  
>"It is not for us to reveal. But no matter, in time Inquisitor, you will have answers."<p>

Lavellan falls to silence, knowing that arguing will not bring further answers, left with more questions she knows that if Morrigan has anything to do with it, she'll do it in her own time. But with this new knowledge, of who or what she is, things at least make more sense. The three women leave the protected roads.


	4. In Service No Freedom

In Service, No Freedom

After they were all safe, all of them locked away, the wolf had very little reason to roam. Every one of them, safely away from any more harm. Finally he could rest. He set himself into his slumber, unknowing what impact her leaves behind. Everyone except Mythal, his companion. She fell to the slaughter. Her desire for victory upon those who came to over throw their rebellion from the ancient elves, had outgrown her own strength. In her last moments, her last command echoed long and hard: "Get them to safety!"

For so long he walked in dreams, unable to awaken. He watched as the elves fell from grace. It angered him. All that she did to save them. This is how they repay her? They caused this, he would snarl in his memory. He began befriending spirits and holding tightly to the memory of the world before all was taken from the ancient elves. He spent years wondering the fade, unable to join the physical world. As each year passed, he fell more and more into a rage about his people as they spun his tale into the Dread Wolf. He watched what they were becoming as they fell from the light of the ancient ones.

Old tales became faith, old stories become truths. There were no other voices in the matters, one-sided tales told to make the elves fear. He watched as they refused to let go of pride and as each one fell, fighting. He watched as the history faded away and his people broke a part. In his hurt and anger toward those he was bound to protect, he lost faith, in all that the elves were and what they had become.

After some time, he was no longer angry. He was void. Darkness had filled his spirit. He no longer wished to see the fate of the world without the knowledge they alone possessed. His intent, was not to abandon the people, but to protect his own from what was to come. The mage had little knowledge that taking them away would affect the future in such a way. He thought the people would see, would understand, and would come to their senses. In his rebellion, he thought they would see what their ways chased away and what it wrought. He thought, it would make them all see the truth and that they would lay down their arms, and return to the song. But they didn't. They fell. Filled with pride.

Time had went on below, warring never seeming to end. Corruption filled the lands. An infection that has now been brought into the fade, lurking in the world of demons and the corrupted memories attached to the evils of humanity. This tainted vein has spread far enough to stir the elf, rustled from his slumber.

In his weakened state, he began to rise. Checking on the key, the foci he guarded the ancient elf met with something stronger than himself. Something that had feasted and fed on the red vein, had been waiting for this moment. As he had awoken, the magic stirred, leading the blighted one right to his location. He could not stop the blighted mage whose face once laid buried in the sickness. He tried in his weakened state to hold the magic, in the last moments he gave the orb over, for he was not strong enough to keep it from the corrupted spirits grasp. He never once believed that anyone had the power to wield the magic.

Opening the orb, re-awoke him fully but without the others, who was he? A wolf left to protect what? These dalish who polluted the old ways? He knew he must get to the surface. He had to see what had happened with this orb. It was the only thing that mattered. Falling into his physical form, the elf's feet touched the surface for the first time in ages. The world pulled at him. It was difficult, at first to adjust. But the magic was close and it helped guide him through. The wolves were out to play again. Long ran off by the humans and their Marobi. Some however, corrupted by the blighted fool who now wields his people's magic.

They did not surround him in honor, as the other wolves would have. They surround him with the intent, in some ironic twist, to devour him. But, his magic was alive and he laid the pack down with a simple burst. Bending down, he cursed the demon who would corrupt such loyal beings. Taking for himself, the jawbone of the beast who led the pack. Cleaning it the mage casts his spell. It would serve as a tool in reminder to what comes to those who cross the Dread Wolf. His intent solidified in that moment.

Making his way towards the stirring power of the orb. Arriving at the Temple of Sacred Ashes, the place where the old magic was laid to rest many years before. A meeting was taking place, a chance for peace to come between the mages and those who sought to control them, enslave them. The time had come to meet ends with the mage rebellion that started so many years before. He had hoped, that even though the blighted one meant to open up the orb, the power that lay within would consume the corrupted and he could regain control of his orb. But, fate never followers orders. Nor, acts in a way that benefits one person.

An explosion rang throughout the lands. It was heavy and the power swept out for a moment, only to drawn back in. The veil opened a hole in the sky. Tears were forming everywhere. Spirits begging to not leave, forced out of these rifts and corrupted. Demons filled the area. Through the dust and ash, he heard a voice pounding through.

"Get her to Haven, NOW!" Her voice was in command.

The troops struggled to carry the body through the destruction left, while others were fighting the demons that came forth. Catching a glimpse of the magic, trailing off of the limp hand he knew he had to act. Gathering thoughts and composing his story, knowing mages were all considered apostates in these times, also that elves were known as unreasonable creatures. He hoped that his knowledge would help them see reason in him.

No one knew what to do. Cassandra was pacing in anger. Leliana was commanding her spies to find anything on what happened. Cullen was busy commanding and fighting the demons with his men. The town's people were cowering, crying, broken from the loss. Confusion and fear consumed the thoughts off all. He offered his help and was let in, although not trusted. He was to aid Adan, the apothecary.

Walking in, caught by surprise, in front of him lay a tiny female elf. She was not well, not waking and she held the mark of this magic in her tiny hand. No one knew what to do. They were in fear of mages and magic. What if she comes to and lays them all to waste? Their thoughts rang out. Cassandra ordered close watch and the moment she stirs, detained for the death of The Divine Justina.

He spent his time studying her, the mark, everything! He needed answers for this world he only knew in remnants of the fade. He had no clear answers. Solas gathered his thoughts and went out with Cassandra and her prisoner Varric, a child of the stone. They two had more in common than they liked to admit to each other. He had to try to help close the rifts, left in the wake. But, try as he may, his power was not strong enough. Just one more try, I must close this he thought to himself. Confusion and frustration grew in everyone. His intent was dark, he woke to revenge. Coming up over the hill, a small frame comes bursting through the demon he was attacking. Her knives thrust hard down on the demon. In a second he sees her hand glow brightly, he grabs it… the first knowing touch. Together, hand on hand, they close the rift with a mere gesture. Changed, in that moment he saw a glimmer of hope that only continued to grow into an amazing spirit, one he never imaged finding.

Those days still fresh in his mind. Her beauty struck him the moment he saw her laying on the small bed in Haven. Many hours watching her and the anomaly she was, able to hold this powerful magic. He still dreams of her, just as he did in the first days of their meeting. Still distracted by her, as he was the year before. Never had he imagined to meet an elf with no intent for vengeance or power, as most of their kind become animalistic in their lust for revenge on the shemlen's. Maybe it was her naïvety in never having any experience beyond her clan. Over time, she gained the respect and awe of all those who were a part of her world, the world she mended. The world, that suffered because of his vulnerability, in a bittersweet twist of irony, only she could fix.

The last thoughts of his companion Mythal was all that had echoed inside of him, until fate brought her. Needing to recover what was lost, she was now what he had to protect.

She was different from what the dalish became. She was a pure spirit, protected from the Shemlen's and their teachings, nurtured in a clan who actually attempted to remember what once was. He allowed himself to feel more than companionship with her. She was everything his pain needed and deeply what his heart desired. She made him question his pride. She pulled at him, beckoned him to be free.

It is not as if he did not dream this? Well, no he never really had. His pride was in his people. She was something different. Old and new crashing together. She changed him, like everything around her, she gave him hope, belief. In his misfortune, he had to let her go, it was his Halam'shivanas. He still had work to do.

Watching her, in moments when he can quiet the voices that he protects now.  
>It is no easy task, but he knows he can always find himself when he thinks of her.<br>He can walk in her dreams easily now, for his consumption of Mythal has changed his song.  
>She does not know that feeling is him. He thinks this much kinder, for he has grown to respect her. On the nights when her soul is aching like deep tears of the flesh, he will send comforts and gently lay her to sleep. Whispering the sweet memories they had, so she knows never to forget how real they were.<p>

She hunts like the wolf, always on his trail. He remains fascinated with her. If not just to remind himself what he had done. It was real, the most real he had ever been. With her, he found himself. He was free and she was his enansal. The most loving he leaves her with, freedom.

Her face in his hands, her body tightly pressed on his. Feel the beating of her heart on his desire filled the fade around him, spirits a stir. He wanted her, he meant to take her in that moment. His lust caught up deep. For one moment, he could feel happy with her in eternity. But, his master's beckon, he is not free. He had been selfish. He must return to them. Ar lasa mala revas, his way of telling her how much he loved her. He gave her everything he couldn't be, free.


	5. More To Uncover

More to Uncover

Lavellan had enjoyed the days where she was out with her companions, meeting the fight. Ever since the fall of Corypheus, everything had become political and she was growing tired of playing the part of figurehead in the politics of the Shemlen's. She had attended a few events at Halam'shiral, most attending were quite disappointed that they did not see her dance, as stories of her dance with the Duchess still rumored about. Many would whisper, _a dance with the Inquisitor is your dance of death. _They wished they had been so clever to have thought of it themselves. She liked the rumors, as they kept her from having to explain herself, wearing a mask, was her favorite part of the charade. Josephine was exceptional at twisting the rumors in a way that all would see the pleasant actions of their forces; keeping her reputation in the light, steering away from all the blood-stained brutality it took to shape a world such as theirs, especially since she was a dalish elf, or knife-ear. Lavellan may have led with purity, but purity was very bloody.

She never really stopped to think about every life that she had taken. It was always a means to an end. Her people's fate lingers, with every breath. Once a bolstering society, now they dwindle in struggle. Any price was worth a chance for the elves to truly be free again. But, this was another sentiment hidden behind her mask. A rebellious spirit fighting for freedom is rarely looked upon as a good thing in the human society that still hold the power in Thedas. Nor, in the elven society who warn the children with stories of Fen'Herel.

Having the weight of entire kingdom on her mind, being back in the hunt was more welcomed than ever. Cassandra had received word of the recent events and is now pacing the halls of Skyhold. Waiting on the Inquisitor Lavellan to meet with her. Walking in, she smiles in a proud way, thinking of how much Cassandra hats hates and how she now stands as Divine.

"You should have come for me sooner." She demanded in her endearing way.

"We sent word immediately, Cassandra."

"Well, you need faster messengers, then." She scolded. "Let's head to the war room, I'm eager to rid these robes. Leliana has news."

Heading to the war room, the two are interrupted by a familiar voice.

"And to think, you started this all without me?"

"Varric?" Cassandra turned in surprise to face the dwarf.

"So tell me Divine, do your followers know our little secret?" Waving a copy of his new series.

"When I asked for a copy, I did not mean for you to bring it personally." Irritation marked her voice.

"Will you two ever just make up?" The Inquisitor smirked.

"So Varric, what really brings you back from the Free Marches?"Cassandra always relentless with the dwarf, even after all this time.

"Well, rumors spread and I just had to find out for myself, if it were all true. I mean, stories involving an ancient sentinel and crazed mages trying to break into the fade? Sounded like total garbage. I just had to see for myself." Varric nodded provoking the conversation.

"Just what we need, more reason for you to smut up our journeys." Cassandra's sigh covering the relief she truly had seeing their old friend, the storyteller. "Leliana sent word, didn't she?"

"Oh you know you are glad to see me, Divine. Plus, you never know. I might be useful." Varric's smirk taunts at his old friend. Though they would never admit their relationship, the two had grown on each other in a manner that rivaling siblings usually hold.

"You are always welcome Varric." The Inquisitor takes a slight bow knowing it will annoy Cassandra.

Cassandra walks off rolling her eyes, "you two are just trouble."

In the war room, the advisers are discussing the new leads and connections supporting the groups that are responsible for corrupting the mages.

"Why is it always the Templars corrupting the purpose?" Cassandra shows her irritation at the feud that holds little to no purpose.

"Because we gave them power to do so." Leliana's jeer showing her impatience as well.

"We knew there would be resistence, but I did not expect this much."

"Cleaning up the political charges between the mages and Templars is not our only issue. We are also, struggling to find a place for the elves, in all this. The people are still resistant as are the elves." Leliana looks over to Cullen who always seems lost in thought.

"Yes, well when you vow to a cause and then that cause changes, there is bound to be adversity.

We must do what we can to ensure the leaders are given the tools they need during this transition." The force in the military commander's voice urgent on the minds of the Inquisition leaders.

"I can have some scribes write-up our position on the matter, they should know the importance of this matter." A well placed suggestion from Josephine.

"Yes, we must lend the Inquisitions voice loudly to this issue."

"The elves need land, a place where they can rebuild." The Inquisitor opens the next political web they must untangle.

"I believe Celene and Briala are working on that now. We should meet with them soon."

"Well, I hope I can at least wear a dress this time, if I need to dance." The Inquisitors smirk poking at the distaste she had for her last attire provided for such an affair.

"You haven't lost your sense of humor at least." Cassandra nods.

"You can thank Sera for helping with that and for the countless other pranks going on." Josephine jabs.

"To work then?" Cullen says trying to avoid discussion of resent ploys he may or may not have had a hand in. Though many of them do not even try to understand Sera at this point, they all covertly enjoy having her little, secret revealing pranks around.

Walking out of the war room, with the intent to catch up with Varric over a game of Wicked Grace, Lavellan is stopped by Muin and Morrigan as she enters the great hall that is still busy and bursting with life, a warm vision of the bustling community that has grown there.

"Inquisitor, we have news." Morrigan takes the lead.

The two elves walk through the garden with the mage to the eluvian Muin protects.

"At least someone is filling these roads with voices," Lavellan's smile showing the peace she finds in the abandoned roads.

"Indeed." Morrigan returns the sentiment.

Muin remains silent, for her thoughts are disquiet.

"We have to get to them." She says breaking the silence.

"Get to who, Muin?"

"Without them, our people will not listen, Lethallan. We need their voices to help lead the elves." I fear without them, those that oppose you will eventually succeed and those that wish to follow will not, as they have become lost without that which they have placed their faith." Muin, is clearly in thought. "It is not just below, Lavellan, it's above too. Nothing will work if we don't have both working together."

"We indeed need the works of both and to get above, we need to go deeper." Morrigan states in the way of leading up to her point. "We need to meet with the Dwarfs." Morrigan lets on more.

"The Dwarfs?" A look of surprise on Lavellan's face, not expecting the conversations turn.

"Indeed, many years ago, before the humans came to this land, the elves and dwarves ruled this land. The dwarves did not bother the elves and the elves very much the same, as they each had their own places, the elves took to the ground above and skies, while the dwarfs took care of the stone and the earth. Neither had any reason to cross. They just existed. During the first invasion, they made a pact, together they could protect."Morrigan revealing a history rarely spoken of.

"But, it didn't work?" The Inquisitor argued, in a way asking why there was failure.

"They were tricked. Each one was given directives that lead each away from each other. By the time they had figured out, it was too late. The blood had been spilt and the dwarfs went further underground refusing to help. They clung to their stone and refused to budge. Some, those who seek to help, feel this is why the blighted came and destroyed their roads. They brought the curse to themselves by turning their backs on the elven kind they swore to fight side-by-side with, while others felt it had been brought by the elves, as a curse for vengeance." Morrigan explained.

"Who would have tricked them?" Lavellan's surprise forcing the question.

"It is believed that it was one of the very first acts that lead to the elven rebellion. Trickery has long been used as a tool to get things done, Lavellan." Morrigan eyes deeply into Lavellan, stirring her memory of her first act, seen as rebellion against the chantry that further pushes the Inquisition.

"You mean elves tricked the dwarfs away from an alliance?" The Inquisitor asked in confusion.

"There are those who became obsessed with their cause and only saw glory and power for themselves leading our kind away from the skies." Muin stated softly, not completing the entire story.

"They used the alliance for their own purpose then?" Lavellan says starting to show her frustration.

"Many tried to reestablish the connection. But, they were no longer trusted and the dwarfs, not understanding the elves, dreams, spirits, just turned their hearts back to the stone. Their comfort and focused on their own protection. How could they trust the rebellion? They had already been deceived."

"The elf rebellion? You mean against other elves?" Searching for more clarity the words marking her interest.

"Yes, a rebellion that lasted a thousand years or more, it is before my time." Muin lets out a sense of how long ago this all began. "Not everyone who gains the power of a god does what is best for all. Many seek to right wrongs personally done to them, no matter the cost. This is true for any race."

"You mean personal vendettas shaped the rebellion? Like Corypheus." Lavellan begins connecting the pieces, the ones she is given anyway.

"Yes, Corypheus sought to gain power and when refused, he vowed to take it, any way he could after he began to question the gods himself." Morrigan answering the pressing question, hoping it serves as a reminder to Lavellan. "Passion is a very strong motivator." The mage focuses her gaze even harder at Lavellan's will.

Muin redirects the conversation back to what needs addressing in this moment, challenging the witch's intent. "It was about the risk of alliance. The dwarfs were very powerful and with their aid, the rebellion could have won. This being seen, those that sought destruction turned the minds and alliances of the dwarfs to aid the humans." Muin reveals the great loss in this. "Once they had lost the support of the dwarfs, our kind retreated, hiding away for a time, until yet another war stirred in the volatile state things were."

Morrigan meets the play and eases her gaze into Lavellan seeing the direction Muin guides the information. "Like the father who refused to let the child play in the field, in fear that something could happen to the child. As the child grows, it does not understand the risks and makes foolish choices out of lack of understanding." Morrigan eases the direction further. "When the next war met the elves, they tried to gain aid, but the dwarfs who tried to help, killed as were those attempting to flee the mighty human marches. Tired of the fighting perhaps, coupled with the lack of understanding sent some on a warpath of protection. Not really seeing much else. As they began to fall, they were locked away, all of them. To protect them. They are all in slumber now, it is believed." Morrigan paints the picture in a clear enough way for the dalish to feel familiar.

"Fen'Harel…" Lavellan whispered.

"Yes, as the dalish call him, The Dread Wolf. It is not wise to believe every tale of the Dread Wolf. His story is not the most accurate having been written in a time of great distress and confusion. The tales twisted by the shemlen's chantry and corrupted to keep the remaining elves in fear." Muin explains, keeping the lore in its place she shows her masked knowledge. "Rebuilding an alliance seems impossible, but the dwarfs hold secrets, secrets that could be useful, if we contact those connected to the ancient stones."Muin ends the attempts for Morrigan to influence the story any further.

"So, you said we have a contact with these dwarfs?" Lavellan asks.

"Indeed, we must meet with them soon, for their travel to the surface is a risky one." Morrigan states firmly. "Muin, I hope you will go with Lavellan, your voice may be needed." Morrigan directs.

"Ma nuvenin." Muin's voice comes forth more hard and firm with very little trace of the softness she is.

Lavellan returns to her quarters that night, in hopes to get some peaceful sleep before her upcoming journey. She feels a connection to the wolf so many fear, for she walks that same feared path. She is a part of the largest faction to support a rebellion in ages, her hunt and prowess has tricked many. She plays the game well or so she has been told.

Though there is nothing enjoyable about taking lives, the purpose keeps her focused. It is impressive to watch as her companions work their play, to each of their strengths. The pieces they have in place, built favor quickly for this rebel cause. Companions like Sera or Cole, lending their skills to pranks and mending. Both doing the good will in their own ways, even though it sometimes means that things get a little bloody. It is still for good cause…

For good cause … trickery seen for what it is. A means to an end that also opens up a beginning …She fades off to dream. So many voices, singing her a song, spinning a story, echoing in the veil…His beginning is struggle, it was not meant this way. It was not supposed to happen like this. He was wrong, he became dark. He lost everything. He cannot lose everyone to this … He must help them now, he cannot be free … I tried to fix things and I couldn't… I must leave them all … I must walk this path alone … I was selfish … He feels he must walk alone in his shame. But he is not alone, he is never alone. He carries them, protects them, it is his burden alone … It's not right, not even here. It would be kinder in the long run, but to lose you. I have distracted you from your duties, you will have answers. Remember what we had was real… ma'arlath ma vhenan …

Cole sits by her while she dreams, reminding the voices to sing of his love for her. It keeps her happy, it keeps her going. This Cole understands now.


	6. It's A Long Way Down

It's A Long Way down

Walking up to the old ruin, the veil is bursting with traced whispers. He strolls over to the place she once lay, heavy in his heart. Bending to get the message the spirit left. A shadow of her figure still marks the ground. He can see how brightly she shown. Soaking in the feeling of her love, it pulses though. Falling into himself for a moment, putting away the old gods. Pulled from the fade, he breathes in every moment and lets it fill him completely. Nothing else is there in this moment, beyond this dream. Reading the note that Cole left, his spirit lit up with glowing blue aura.

I never wanted to say goodbye, so I didn't.  
>I still feel his touch. I will never FORGET.<br>Leading me to sites long-lost and opening my mind,  
>he left knowledge I only felt in old whispers.<br>Giving me freedom, he became a part of me, eternally.  
>He had been such a good friend, how could I abandon him now?<p>

Scribbled at the bottom, words not completely formed, but enough for the mage to make out:

I can help – Cole

The elf sits in this place for a moment longer. Traces of her love still surprising him. What dalish falls in love with the Dread Wolf? The lone apostate.

Inquisitor, there is something I should tell you before we go meet with these Dwarves.  
>"What is it Varric?"<br>"I just think there are some things you should know about, talking to the Dwarves before you go. They are stubborn and hold to their traditions harder than their alliances. Not like they will eat your head off, but they just… hold tradition very highly, if you get what I'm saying."  
>"I understand Varric, I do not intend to go there and expect anything less."<br>"Yeah, well if you can let Morrigan in on that sentiment that would be great."  
>"You worry about Morrigan, there is some history between you two?"<br>"Everyone who is anyone has history with Morrigan."  
>"Then you two have something in Common." Lavellan smirks.<br>"I guess you're right. Well, just tell me when you are ready to leave." Nothing can really be said to put Varric in any state of ease.

The lands lay hollow and vast, the sky holds heavy and deep, bursting with stars. A small entrance covered by olden vines marks the stone stands before them, just as marked on their map, by Scout Harding back at the forward camp. The stone lay simple, smooth large blocks shaping a squared archway not decorated, but in place. The group enters met with an open stone room. Torches mark the entrances, carved into each facing side of the room, providing the only light in the room. The group now met by three dwarves dressed as scouts. The one in the middle boasts a terrible beard and said nothing. Same as the other two, passing Lavellan a scroll, he nods and they turned and walk back into the stone.

"Well that went better than I expected." Morrigan shows her relief. Varric looks over at her in his own ease, though still concerned about what was passed over.  
>"Is it normal for the Dwarves to remain silent?" Confused by such a brief encounter, Lavellan prying at her companions for answers.<br>"Depends on the dwarf and the circumstance." Varric adds in his knowledge. "Though not normally. However, in this case it seems that whatever they passed you, they dared not even speak of it. Dwarves are quite literal." Looking the scroll over, Varric is unable to translate much as the ancient texts are rarely seen in these days.  
>"We will have to get this back to the people at Skyhold to decipher." Lavellan says with hast.<p>

Exiting the stone the party faces a bandit force, they are not typical bandits or mercenaries that they meet in this battle. They seem a bit, out-of-place. On the body of the leader, now lying lifeless at Lavellan's feet, a note reading -

Follow them, take her alive and bring this Inquisitor to me. – Commander Thrull.  
>"Commander Thrull?" Varric comments with a sense of sarcasm in his tone.<br>"It seems we have a lead for Leliana's people to look into" Lavellan replies.

Back at Skyhold, Lavellan makes her way to the war room eager to see what might be found from their silent friends.  
>"We need these translated, urgently." The documents, handed over to Josephine for translation by the researchers of the Inquisition.<br>"Inquisitor, Blackwall is requesting to lead some charges out to the factions of mages we have found. We can also send along some scouts if any information is found that could lead us to whomever is leading this madness." Cullen voices the matter in need of approval, while they look over the war table deciding the next matter to lend their attention to.  
>"Any word from Empress Celene yet?" Leliana presses Josephine for any answer to what is going on with the elven servants.<br>"Nothing yet." Josephine easing the reply.

Leaving the war room, Lavellan takes a moment to tend to her weaponry and armor. She often finds a visit to the undercroft helps keep her focused on the missions and the causes she faces. Dagna tends to her enchanted items, while Harritt repairs the damage done to her armors. Her focus remains on the sharpening of her blades. Her weapons, an extension of her own physical reach and caring for them is much like a ritual. They work into the evening, before Lavellan finds the call of a filling meal and her bed meeting her.

It does not take long for the information to reach Leliana's desk. The spymaster takes a moment to look over the articles in preparation to deliver the information to the others. Always looking for an angle or things that might lead or connect to the other secrets she collects from her expansive network. The crows caw around her, guiding her focus. Her archives hold more power than some may imagine, reminding all, the risks of crossing her or those she has pledged her devotion to. Her darkness, brings some of the brightest hope for the Inquisition.

Lavellan gets word and heads into the war room once again, ready to continue their journey. "We've analyzed the scrolls given by the dwarves, Inquisitor. It seems to lead to an ancient dwarven ruin." Leliana summarizes their findings and has placed full reports for the advisers, in their studies.  
>"We will be on our way then, anything in particular we should look out for?"<br>"Varric has requested that you meet with him before you leave."  
>Leaving the war room Lavellan meets the request by Varric.<br>"Well, it seems we may step on a lot of toes." Varric sighs. "There is good reason."  
>"What do you mean?"<br>"Dwarves hold places sacred, much like the elves and they do not like anyone nosing around their old ruins. The fact that this ruin has long been forgotten stirs the pot. Those scrolls you were given had been locked away very carefully. I hate to think of what may happen once they discover that the scroll is gone." Varric says shaking his head concerned of what may come.  
>"I do not know if this is a wise path to take, if we are to gain the trust of the dwarves."<br>"Varric, what other choice do we have. If there are answers to what happened, we need to find them."  
>"But what if it doesn't? Not everything brought up from below has resulted in bettering people."<br>"We can make things better, Varric or at least try."  
>"The stone is a long way down, Inquisitor. I hope it's worth the journey. Who knows what is down there and what could meet us when we come back up."<br>"Our people are already a long way down, Varric."

The land void and dry, boasts a colossal stretch, covered in harshly blowing sand and a bursting sky. The party is not unfamiliar with such plains. Although this area holds a desolation about it unlike the others.  
>"We have surveyed the area, Inquisitor. Most everything, covered in decades of blown in sand. We were lucky to find some old stone peeking out. We uncovered the area to find a doorway, but we have not found out how to enter it exactly. I wish there was more to tell you." Scout Harding politely excusing herself.<br>"Thanks for the information, it seems we have some work to do."  
>"Be careful Inquisitor, I don't think this land has seen footsteps in, who know how long."<p>

The land was utterly empty, surprising that anything was found at all. There are no clear paths, nothing that leads in any direction. They rely on the flames left from the forward scouts to give them direction, without any lead it would be impossible to know anything remained here at all.

"What is it with the dwarves and sand?" Dorian's annoyance expressed with thoughts of how long it took to rid of all the sand trapped in their gear and belongings, the last time they ventured into the desert lands. The group has walked in the solitude of the land for some time, combating the fleeting beasts of the land as they make their way to the marked location the scouts uncovered.

Walking towards the area, a narrow pathway revealed, only by the slightest gap between the mounting sand. An old, unlit, brazier shows the direction. Muin uses her magic to light the brazier, a slight passage way becomes exposed as the magic from the veilfire soaks into the thirsting air. The sand stone begins to shine in the likeness of the old dwarven ruins. It is clear now that the sand had covered the stone years before.  
>"Interesting, let's look around."<br>"An untouched tomb that has not seen life in ages." How do such places just become lost to time?" A thought echoed by everyone.  
>"There are no whispers to guide us, we must stay alert." Muin adds, confirming the desolation. Their footsteps echo in the silence, the hallway made of smooth carven stone, resembles the same appearance found in any dwarven ruin, seems to go in a great length. Lighting the way through, the only object they have faced is the lanterns leading the path until they happen upon a ladder, old but sturdy. It leads them deep into the stone. Sliding to the bottom, always brings a nervous moment, for unknown is what lay below.<br>"A tomb, it seems."  
>Proceeding to the massive dwarven tomb. The statues of an old dwarven paragon, towers over the party of friends. Carved in the stone, in the shape of a plaque that the dwarven statue holds is the story of the guardsman.<p>

_His life was always in secret.  
>From the stone he was born unknown to all.<br>Keeping the secrets of the time  
>from the prying of those who seek<br>the knowledge of the stone.  
>Devoted in his honor, his tongue he removed. <em>

"I'm not sure if I am completely impressed or really creeped out." Muin exposes a piece of her personality.  
>The group looks at her in a bit of endearing surprise.<br>"This must have been a burdensome position." Lavellan states calmly.  
>"The service to the ancestors is never an easy one." Muin knowingly expresses her sentiment.<br>Searching the area, they found a source for veilfire. Using the torch, Lavellan discovers a lost rune carving.  
>"It's a direction, pointed out by the image of a compass facing NNE. The rune reads - cannot meet beneath without fire." Its elven.<br>"There was an alliance between our people." The comment, whispered from Muin to remind of the peace that once was lays softly in the ears of the party.

Searching further around the tomb they uncover a lever. Pulling the device, a group of rage demons is sprung to life. These higher tier spirits in place, certainly to destroy looters.  
>Dorian sets the pace with a blast of fire, joined in by the rogue's blades. A quick shot from Varric's crossbow leaves the beast defeated. Muin's blade slashing across the next demon, stilled by her light. The fatal lunge from Lavellan's duel blades ends it threat. Upon defeat, a key drops from one of the ancient demons.<br>"I wonder what this key opens." The question left to wait an answer.  
>"North, north-east shall we?" Dorian suggests.<br>"Did I mention that I hate caves?" Varric lets out his concern.  
>Continuing out of the ancient tomb, the door slams shut behind them.<br>"I suppose it'll take some time for more demons to find their way in replacement.  
>The dwarves were cleaver." Muin expresses her appreciation for such schemes.<p>

The group follows the directions that the veilfire reveals through lanterns specifically along the way. Lighting them, the magic releases into the air as if it is quenching the thirst of the skies.  
>"I always wondered what the sands were like in person. It tickles sharp, but is soft. I can see why the dwarfs stayed underground." Exposing her thought.<br>"So, you spent your whole life in the forest then?" Dorian accepts the opportunity to learn more of this rare creature.  
>"Most of the time, yes. If not in the forests then I was in the fade. I have not been freed from that service in a very long time." Muin smiles in her words.<br>"So, I guess elven kind did have their slaves." Dorian makes an argument with a mage who no longer walks with them.  
>"In some ways, I can see how you would compare the service to slavery. In some ways it is. Some of our kind became obsessed, twisted in their beliefs. They controlled their people and built their kingdoms with what they called growth, it was restricting. In the beginning however, our service was a place of honor. Being called upon and given a choice, it was an honor just to have this choice and with many having the desire to serve, saying no, just meant you were not ready. We had eternity." Muin explains with a sign of pride.<br>"So, what was yours, choice or force?" A question Varric has always wondered about these guardians.  
>"Mine was of choice. Rebellion was coming and I wanted to protect what could never be lost to corruption. So many were falling, in that fear I found faith." Muin opens her sentiment.<br>"Well, then you have joined the right group." Varric affirms.  
>"We are a bunch of crazy rebels aren't we?" Dorian states with an overwhelming sense of pride.<br>"Well, some of us are crazy." Varric stabs in a quip.  
>"Rebels make the changes needed, when no one else will. Not a fate to face alone. Who else will do it, but the foolish?" Muin smiles politely through Dorians gaze.<p>

Continuing along the hidden path in the dark, dry, desert met with another route leading to another tomb. This one, much like the other, buried deep in the sand.  
>"Another tomb of secrets?" Lavellan asked out loud not requesting an answer. Using the veilfire she finds another rune. East South East, the only message. Looking further around the tomb a discovery of burial stone that lays is ajar. Pushing it further open, awakes the demon within. After a quick fight with the rage demon Lavellan collects the items inside. A higher weave robe and a staff of light. A note reads, <em>May light guide you to the unseen<em>. Clearly the items placed with purpose. Lavellan passes them over to sentinel elf. Muin equips the staff. It locks on to her spirit. The sound echoes for a moments then fades.  
>"Are you alright?" Lavellan quickly responds.<br>"Its lit now, it's awake." The calm in Muin's voice relaxes the group's sentiment.  
>"Your magic is very useful, Muin." Dorian lets on.<br>"And yet her blades do the dirty work, you are a gift aren't you?" Varric says, admiring her brutal ability.  
>Headed out to the last tomb, the doors seal behind the group. Locking away the remnants of their presence. The land lay hallow, no one single soul, beyond their own and any creature that roam the lands. This is truly a place forgotten.<p>

Following the light, now provided by Muin's staff, the group is lead to a huge dune of sand. Unnatural in its stature, it boasts over the desert. Walking in the direction provided, Muin's staff begins to light up crystals buried beneath, they protrude out, pushing the sand from the framing of a sealed opening. Revealing a door with an intricate lock. Lavellan puts in the ancient key and turns it slowly; it resists. Muin walks forward and lets her magic release from the staff. Lighting up the surrounding stones the key turns, unlocking the door for the first time in ages.

The path is wide and the stone lay untouched in complete perfection, a road meeting the surface. Stone steps lead them down, as each area lights itself from the magic Muin carries. Revealing carvings and stones sparkling in brilliance.  
>"This road has never been used, it seems." Lavellan insists.<br>"There are no whispers here." Muin agrees.

The road leads them to a huge cave, it opens wide and jagged. To the left is a small garden with a pool in the middle. Plants grow in the light provided by some magic it seems. Two halla stand over the pool. In the rear, a wolf statue guards the area. On the Right, stands a large stone hallowed out to form a room. Statues of old dwarven kin stand tall, guarding the opening. The stones glistens with light.  
>"Athan'lr lath araval ena." Muin whispers.<br>"What is an elven ruin doing down here?" Dorian asks in complete interest.  
>Walking up between the two a large stones, elven in nature, scribed on a stone plaque in dwarven runes.<p>

_Our secret must stay. The gods have turned us away.  
>Together we stay. But they tear us apart.<br>They drive us to ruin. Arrogant and stubborn.  
>How do they not see that they bring demise?<br>Let this stone stand to show that we once were in unity.  
>Above and Below. But, now we must separate for a time.<br>Only to meet again, when the heavens awake._

"There is so much sorrow here, but they wrap it in hope." Muin calmly whispers.  
>"I wonder what secrets are held here." Lavellan always ready for answers, surfaces her thoughts. "Just be careful." Varric expresses in his fatherly way.<p>

Walking to the Elven ruin, a feel of calm and peace is searching within them. Whispers seem to come up from the water, drawing them in. Muin is standing still and in a moment, she is lit up brightly. A voice talks through her.

_Andaran atish'an, da'mi. Lath sulevin.  
>Lath araval ena arla ven tu vir mahvir melana 'nehn enasal ir sa lethalin. <em>

Her glowing form fades and falls back to her physical form again.  
>"It's in the water, Lethallan." Muin points, just as she was.<p>

Lavellan makes her way to the pools edge enraptured for a moment, pulled on hard by the feeling of hands stretched out. She can hear the cries centuries old. Her hand touches the water. She lights up in a blue haze and pulls out a stone resembling dwarven origin.  
>"This must be a key of some sort." Lavellan states standing from the pool. They hurry over quickly to the dwarven ruin. Inside, the stone lights up from Muin's staff. The stone is warm, inviting. A statue of a dwarven paragon is the only thing that stands. Holding a plaque written in ancient elven, in the voice of the dwarf.<p>

_Kal Repartha on loose sand.  
>Blow off the dust to find the vein of silver.<br>Cut off the stone.  
>The Isana will lead your way.<em>

Isana? That's Lyrium." Varric comments on Muin's translation in wonder.  
>"Cut off the stone", could that be more than what's deciphered? Lavellan asks.<br>"The last time I found some mysterious lyirum, things did not turn out well." Varric states in worry. Continuing to look around, they find a spot that is loose in the stone. Muin's light shows a hole.  
>"The stone key, it must go in there." Lavellan steps forward to put the stone in.<br>The old room shakes as a door slides up, opening to a small room. Nothing stands in this room, but two scrolls and a platform holding lyrium sealed in a very secure glass and magically bound vase.  
>"The scrolls are not of any origin I can read, Muin's passes them to Varric.<br>He can barely make out something about, "a sickness" and something that "slows".  
>"Could this be what caused or could stop the red lyrium growth?" Dorian asks.<br>"We need to get this to Skyhold." Lavellan commands.  
>"But, Inquisitor, bringing this to the surface would put us in a lot of danger." The troubled dwarf presses at the issues.<br>"Can we send people here?" Muin asks calmly.  
>"It would be risky, either way. We cannot draw attention to any of this. If this fell into the wrong hands, Andraste's ass." Varric exasperated.<br>"We need to secure the area, quietly." Lavellan agrees.

"It cannot open without the staff and the key. We can take those with the scrolls until we can bring back forces." Muin whispers calmly.  
>"I told you I didn't like this." Varric argues.<p>

In a moment, the sound of steps, the three dwarven scouts from the meeting place before stand before the party.  
>"Partha. It has been a long time since I have had the honor of being in the presence of Elvhen.<br>It is with great honor that we greet you, dust to dunkels that we meet now. This place our secret to keep, must be shared. The stone has awoken and the time is amgeforn. We must have amgarrak for all of our people. Together once more. We are with the paragons of secrets, our brother. We will work with your people to find the answers for all of us, in honor."  
>"I'm sorry I did not get your name." Lavellan asks, always in grace.<br>"I am Shaper Brovil", the dwarf with the terrible beard states. "With me are Shapers Degar and Ano."  
>"You all are Shapers?"<br>"Our family has been for centuries, passing down the secrets of our kind."  
>"So you are brothers, then?"<br>"That we are, it was a hard night for our mother."  
>"You are triplets?" Lavellan asks in surprise.<br>"We are a rare case, some think a curse among our family. But our skills proved otherwise." Brovil states in pride. "But, I'm the oldest." Degar cuts in.  
>"You don't know that, I could very well be." Brovil cuts back while Ano just stands there staring off.<br>"It's a pleasure to meet you, all of you." Lavellan showing her kind heart.  
>"Lethallen, if I may stay with them and help them in this research, I think I could be of great use." Muin interrupts.<p>

Parting ways back to Skyhold a union of strangers begins. Lavellan meets with Leliana to get support out to the area, if anyone else shows up, uninvited.  
>"Muin is there with them, she will return when she is no longer needed". Lavellan explains to Morrigan.<br>"Interesting, I am curious about what they may find." Morrigan states calmly.


	7. The Deeper You Go

The Deeper You Go

"Inquisitor, we have news." Leliana beckons Lavellan to the war room.  
>"Muin has sent word from the ancient place. It seems that they have found more information on the red lyrium. They believe the scrolls are partial research on the diseased lyrium. It seems some were trying to figure out a cure for the lyrium and they were making progress. As for the lyrium in the container, it was not taken from the dwarven mines, but from the golden city itself." Leliana gestures. "It seems that the corruption was intentionally used by Corytheus as a weapon against the gods, but its existence has record from before his time. You do know what this means?"<br>"It means Corypheus was right." Lavellan answers the question no one wants to.  
>"Yes, but more than that. It means that the Golden City could be corrupted, not just empty."<br>"If everything has become corrupted, then what of the old gods?" Lavellan voices out in distress.  
>"This is madness! How can the heavens themselves be corrupted?" Cullen demands in frustration.<br>"If this is true, Andraste help us all. We cannot let this information out to anyone." Josephine states in worry.  
>"No, we shall not. Any leaks shall be dealt with immediately." Leliana affirms the importance this discovery holds. Raising her hands from the war table, the Spymaster folds her arms in a demanding stance.<br>"Inquisitor, we need to get Muin and the dwarfs back here as soon as possible and the tomb sealed."  
>"Good, get them back here quietly we cannot draw any attention. We need to find more information on the red lyrium, which means the dwarfs need to talk." Lavellan positions her command.<p>

As if summoned, Dorian comes charging into the war room with intent.  
>"It seems we have a problem." Tight faced and angry, he commands attention.<br>"What's going on, Dorian?"  
>Dorian slams down a piece of red lyrium on the war table. His force grabbing at all of their hearts. "This! I have spent every night, reading and researching. Going back in my people's history, digging in every dark hole I can find. This, this did not come from the dwarves, though they may have provided the lyrium. My people, the Magisters…they corrupted it. They poisoned it, fed it with sickness." Dorians face fierce and stern stares right through them all. "I'm going back! If I can find this information out from here, I can find out even more there! Someone had to aid them!" Stepping up to Dorian, Leliana pushes both hands on his chest, putting him up against the wall. "Calm down! Nothing will get done if you act insane!" She stares into his eyes with the firmness of death.<p>

"She's right, Dorian. You need to think about this!" Lavellan yells out.  
>The room, filled to the top with tension. Cullen's vision locked on Dorian.<br>Josephine, steps back in containing her fear. The moment weighs heavy for an instant. Breaking through with a breath, the Tevinter mage continues.  
>"I cannot stay here when I know I can get more answers." His voice breakdowns, falling out of anger.<br>"Are these answer for you, or for us?" Leliana cuts her words into him, stepping back from her hold, still untrusting of the Tevinter mage.  
>"Well, I am here aren't I?" Dorian exclaims, a bit thrown off by the reaction from the spymaster, but not surprised. Her odd sense of darkness has its place.<br>"Everyone needs to calm down!" Lavellan contains the room. "Dorian, I believe you. I know how hard you have worked, but running off to Tevinter? Isn't that a bit drastic?"  
>"I don't think I have to explain the severity, Inquisitor. If I can find answers, nothing is too extreme."<br>"You are not going alone!" Lavellan crosses her arms, in stance to protection her friend.  
>"Are you mad? I can't bring any of you. We'd stand out like a beacon!" Dorian argues.<br>"I have many connections in Tevinter, I can arrange accommodations that can give you cover." Josephine cuts in encouraging discussion.  
>"Not to be disrespectful but…you are an elf, you could go in disguise as a … slave. Forgive me." Cullen steps back showing his embarrassment.<br>"That's actually not a bad idea." Leliana encourages the thought. "We do have a few elves here. Are you working on that relationship with your father, Dorian?" Her cunning thoughts emerge showing her firm hand in the game.

The mood in the room lightens, the focus regained as they come together to work on every detail of this plan long into the night. Sitting around the table, rolling dice, moving pieces each entering the game with traded perspectives and a unity of voices.  
>"This diversity is really paying off." Cullen breaks the silence.<br>"We should be the voice showing everyone what working together can get you." Leliana affirms.  
>"The game means more than you may know Cullen, every piece is needed to win." Josephine nods in smile.<br>"I'm just glad Dorian didn't run off in a ball of fire." Lavellan laughs.  
>"Run away from you? I know better than that." His playful reply.<p>

"Inquisitor, Muin and the dwarves have arrived." The scout bows as he gestures in the group, followed by Morrigan, who had seen their approach.  
>"I will go work on those leads, Inquisitor." Dorian excuses himself from the meet.<br>"Well it seems that the deeper we dig, the more we find, Inquisitor." Brovil begins. "It seems that an old agreement with Ancient Tevinter may have been what brought all of this on. This agreement was a trade agreement to offer lyrium to Tevinter."  
>"Yes, we read that in your message, what more do you know?"<br>"Well, along with that agreement, Tevinter was to give protection of the deeps roads from the ancient elves."

"Why would they need protection from the elves?"  
>"By providing lyrium to Tevinter, they broke their agreements with the ancient elves, Inquisitor. I can only assume they felt retaliation would come, or were lead to believe that retaliation would come." Brovil gestures with his arms.<br>"But, why would the ancient dwarves break their agreement with the ancient elves?"  
>"I suppose that is the next piece of the puzzle, Inquisitor. To find out, we need to meet with the other shapers." Brovil adds.<br>"Will they meet with us?" Lavellan asks crossing her arms doubting.  
>"At this point, they will have to, Inquisitor."<br>"What do you mean, at this point?"  
>"Our people hold a lot of pride, but we also demand justice and law. These dwarves did not just turn their backs on the elves; they broke an alliance that caused our roads ruin by the darkspawn. These dwarves very well could have caused our own fall in turn leading to agreements with Tevinter. Someone covered this up, when I say someone, I could very well mean all the ancient leaders." Brovil reveals his thoughts in great apprehension.<br>"But, wouldn't they want to know?"  
>"Well, that's the thing. You remember that they hold to traditions very tightly? If this reveals that those traditions are wrong, it will irreversibly change everything. As I am sure you know, there will be many who will refuse this information. They will go to any length to protect it, even if it means taking lives and destroying the evidence." Brovil nods his head.<p>

Ano, steps forward. The first words to break his lips.  
>"That is what we are here for my brother." His voice was stronger than expected, an age of wisdom seemed held inside. "We knew that the things we gathered lead to more, Brovil. We knew our day would come. Silence will turn us to stone." Ano looks at his brothers in love. "What do we need to do?" Lavellan asks for their insight to help ease the heavy thoughts. "There is a shaper, one who might just be able to help. I just don't know at what cost." Brovil nods.<br>Muin joins the conversation. "We need to let what remains of my people know as well." If we can gain their support in this matter, we could rebuild an alliance."  
>"Rebuild the alliance between the elves and dwarves? Now you are breaking on the edge of madness." Morrigan crosses her arms. "I'm not sure you understand just how highly they hold to their traditions. Not to mention, having to admit fault? Losing their precious trade connections?"<br>"We only need the voices of a few. If we can get some of them to listen, to help." Lavellan builds up the hope in the room.  
>"You are asking a lot, Inquisitor." Morrigan gestures in disbelief. "And who shall you approach first?"<br>"First we need all the evidence." Lavellan confirms her intent with a clasping of her fist. "We don't know what information Tevinter holds."  
>"Be careful, Inquisitor. Shaping the world is a dangerous game." Morrigan stares into Lavellan, provoking her spirit.<p> 


	8. Turning Hearts and Turning Minds

Turning Heart and Turning Minds

Her desk is always busy, candle light flickering to the breeze, steady and ongoing from those passing by. The sound of the quill on paper, like a beast scratching to get out of a locked room; her face focused. What an amazing gift she is. Her golden clothing, reflecting in her eyes. She is a true beauty and fearless in everything she does. Approaching her desk, Lavellan always feels as if she should shroud her in appreciation. She must remember to have the cooks bring her tiny cakes. Some value of thanks for the good friend she is.

"Inquisitor, we are ready to review Dorian's request if you have a moment." Her polite demeanor, always covering her efforts. Leliana enters the room with Dorian and Morrigan. Cullen the last to enter, stands with arms crossed clearly unhappy with what is about to unfold.  
>"I just don't see why our Inquisitor has to go, why can't we send in spies? We have them for this very reason." The Commanders distrust in the plan revealed immediately.<br>"We already discussed this. Dorian knows the area better than any of us, if he gets into any trouble he will need more than the spies we will have in place." Leliana cuts the concern out removing the pieces of heart. Clearly, this is going to happen.  
>"I have received communication back from your father, Dorian. He is eager to see you home soon."<br>"He will suspect a ruse. Do we have everything in place?" Dorian shows his understanding of his father and the lengths he may go to secure his son from the rebel Inquisition.  
>"The elven spies are already in place, the scouts have met with Josephine's people, we are just waiting on you and the Inquisitor." Leliana confirms the plan.<br>"Have we considered that they might try to detain Dorian?" Morrigan addresses the question lingering in all of their minds.  
>"That's why you will be accompanying him as his escort, Morrigan." Leliana begrudgingly eyes Morrigan. "You have the secrets of the well on your side, correct?" Crossing her arms, tipping her hip to the side a bit of sass exposed from the spymaster.<p>

"Me?! Ha. You think me a fool?" Morrigan taunts the idea.

"No respectable mage shows up without an escort, Morrigan. Lavellan cannot, Muin cannot, and clearly we know why. Same as with Bull, Cole, Sera, or any of us. You are the only one they do not know about having any connection to us." Leliana eyes her hard with her intent. "The Inquisitor, Muin, and Sera will already be in the building, replacing the servants. Bull will have his chargers stationed and ready for the call, if needed. It's not like we are throwing you to the wolves. You are here to help us, aren't you?" The argument continues. "Once Dorian has met with his father, he will request to visit the city, escorted by the Tevinter Magisters, of course. Once he enters the Archive Hall, we will have to act fast. Sera, Muin, and Lavellan will create a distraction, while Dorian grabs the Archive Hall key from the guard. The visit will end abruptly as they will clearly be embarrassed over the actions of the servants. You will have to go break them out of their …rooms. They will not take the actions lightly. Moving swiftly, from there you gain access to the archives." Leliana places her game pieces along the map.  
>"Starting a war with Tevinter is not the goal." Cullen cuts in. His stance bold, but the worry clear on his face.<br>"My contacts will cover your entrance and exist, beyond that you are on your own as I am sure you are aware of the risk they are taking." Josephine places down her pieces.  
>"This is the plan the almighty Inquisition comes up with?" Morrigan shakes her head. "However, we do need their information, I digress." Morrigan stops her thought, exposing her new agenda. "There may actually be something else of use in the area. If I am to do this, then you must allow me to seek this source." Morrigan lays down her piece in the game.<br>"What source do you refer to?" Leliana narrows her sight, showing her distrust.  
>"You asked for my help, using my knowledge from the Well. Tevinter holds many old elven artifacts. The land did belong to the elves before Tevinter after all. If there are artifacts to be found, they could be of use to the Inquisition."<br>"So you know the location of these artifacts?" Lavellan breaks her silence with a sign of agreement to Morrigan's cause.  
>"Not exactly, but I will do all that I can to find out more." Morrigan's point pressing hard.<br>"If there are elven artifacts that can be found this might be the only time we will have." Seeing the benefit over the risk, Leliana steps in on the agreement.  
>"Makers breathe, so you want to start a war? Its risk enough being there in the first place." Cullen highly disagreeing with this new agenda.<br>"If a few of you show up early, we could cover your early entrance. This will give you time to search for the artifacts while we get everyone else in place. It won't give you much time, but it's better than trying to recover them, after a break in." Josephine grabbing at ideas to aid this new twist in the game.  
>"And what happens when they find the artifacts missing?" Cullen brings the argument further forward.<br>"They are elven, they don't belong to them in the first place. What are they going to do? Start a war over artifacts they stole in the first place?" Morrigan's rebuttal showing her intelligence and ability to outwit any who stands in her path.  
>"She has a good point." Dorian voices his support, "but they will not just ignore theft."<br>"They are not going to openly attack the Inquisition. We have Orlais and Ferelden behind us." Josephine clears the concern. We will suspect them to send attacks, but with a few letters to the proper people we can have those forces shut down quickly.  
>"My troops could use some good fights." Cullen plays protection as his support comes around.<br>"Morrigan, get us as close to the place you sense. We will meet the rest of you at the port. Send Bull and his chargers in to clear the area taking no unnecessary risks." Lavellan demands unity, the room fills with command. A stand echoing the power that they all hold, together. A force, growing beyond what they ever dreamed. The hunt begins.

Morrigan, Lavellan, Muin, and Sera journey off into the territory of Tevinter. Cloaked in large dark hoods, hiding their faces from any who may pass by. The sands are hot under the blazing sun. Morrigan pulls out the map pointing out the direction the group will travel. Meanwhile, the others carefully move into place around their target location of Minrathous. Slave wear laid out awaiting the Inquisition elves while hands exchange favors between the allied, as every piece moves into position.

Uncovering her head, Morrigan holds up the map facing the direction of a small settlement that sits just off the horizon. Solas, Tevinter.  
>"Well, this is interesting." Morrigan looks over to Lavellan.<br>"Solas?" Her brow frowns suspicious in the obvious coincidence.  
>"Morrigan?" Lavellan breaks the moment.<br>"I can only tell you more, if we proceed, Inquisitor." Morrigan gestures her hand outward, as if to say, after you.  
>"Well this place is creepy." Sera starts to pick up on the strange feeling in the air.<br>"I agree." Lavellan's gut in knots. His name, a Tevinter settlement where elven artifacts remain. Her head running circles around the fragments of information, nowhere to put them, they push against her will.  
>"There is elven magic nearby." Muin's voice breaks out in a tone never heard from her before. This stirs Lavellan further, a choice of words she is so familiar with haunt her. Feeling a rush go through, she pushes through her sentiment.<br>Buildings begin to break through the haze. The roofs peak just over the wall surrounding the settlement. Statues of a dragon stand on each side of the gate, the only visible opening to the sandstone walls; bold in black.

The settlement is small, no larger than a common town. Guards stand ready atop the walls. Wearing minimal armor, they do not seem overly protected. Taken out quickly, they can slip in and meet any resistance before reinforcements are called if the job is done with precision. Two mages, four heavy armored fall quickly to the skilled party. As they slip into the settlement. Few buildings stand in the shadow of a large temple set at the back of the village, centered on its place on the land. The smaller buildings are clearly Tevinter, however, the larger building in the rear boasts a distinct look about it. Oversized black dragon engraved doors threaten any who approach. Guarded by several forces, a mixture of mages and heavy armored troops. The sledgehammers reflect the sun in blinding flashes. Metal and black clothed figures pace back and forth. As the party creeps along unnoticed.  
>"Those are not Tevinter, is this place abandoned?" Lavellan's voice low.<br>"Something is wrong." Morrigan whispers. "I, I can't… they are gone."  
>As the last words leave her lips, a blast of fire comes up from behind them. The ground quaking, rocks fall from the buildings around. The breath of a great dragon knocks them all off of their feet. The beast swoops barely missing the ground. The guards stirred to the commotion rush to attack the exposed group. Magic's flare up the sky. Muin freezes her target in light, running forward to slash into him with her two hook-like blades, ripping into him with a spin to the ground. Sera flips backwards releasing a barrage of arrows; poison in their tips. Placing her feet as she lands, she steadies herself for the next release. Lavellan spins in with her blades tearing the foe to the ground, keeping the other mage from casting his spell upon Sera. Marking her next target, she paralyzes him before meeting him with a fierce slash of her blades. Morrigan twists her staff in the air releasing a blast of force against her target that sends him hurled to the ground. The battle is urgent. The dragon circles above, poised for another attack, readying it's breathe for a burst of fire. Morrigan shouts out perceiving the incoming dragon fire…"LOOK OUT!" They all scatter, leaving the enemy in the wake of the blast. For a few, it is their end, however a few forces still remain standing. It is not long before they have cast down the rest. Just in time to avoid another attack from the dragon's fiery breathe. Lavellan rushes to get to the great doors, but the dragon has beat her to the entrance. Standing in guard of the mysterious building, its might too much for the group unprepared; they must retreat. "Whatever it is guarding, we need to get to it." Morrigan demands.<br>"Morrigan, that dragon is not like the others." Lavellan meets the topic.  
>"Something is blocking me from searching further. But whatever is in there, it has the answers we need." Morrigan's intrigue heightens.<br>"We have no way of doing that now, we will have to come back." Lavellan makes the call.  
>"No, there is something stronger here, something called in the dragon and does not wish to be found. I felt whispers. I wonder if another eluvian stands behind those doors." Morrigan reveals the pieces of what she heard before being blocked.<br>"We need to get to the others, we can still retrieve the information Dorian is looking for." Lavellan leads the focus. "We will have to come back."  
>Meeting up with Josephine's contacts, the others are happy to be reunited.<br>"So, were you successful?" Dorian opens the discussion.  
>"If you consider escaping the wrath of a great dragon success, then yes. As for the artifact? It is going to take more than what we had to get to." Morrigan briefs the group.<br>"A dragon? In Tevinter? Well that's not good." Dorian confirms the group's sentiment.  
>"Can't things just be normal already?" Sera expresses her disgust with the situation.<br>"Let's get what you have come for and get back to Skyhold." Lavellan urges the party.

The three elves go along to put on their disguises and get in place, while Morrigan and Dorian met with Magister Parvus. The building boasts the wealth this nation holds. Dragons carved in great mass along the pillars, as if to invoke fear. Holding up the ceilings that tower open and raised high displaying darkened arches. Books amass the walls of shelves that require stairs and walkways to reach. Everything presented in exquisite detail, gold and darkened metals line every banister. Lavellan, face down, stands holding a tray watching as Dorian, Morrigan, and Magister Parvus enter the room Attended by four mage guards, black robes, oversized hoods, and staffs in hand. Sera stands on the other side of the Hall, her face showing her hatred. Muin stands covered in the slave wear waving an incense holder back and forth like the ticking hand of a clock. The room still and cold.  
>"It has been a long times since I have seen such greatness. These libraries used to keep me for hours on end." Dorian plays out his part.<br>"Indeed, I have never seen anything to meet its match." Morrigan enters her role.  
>Magister Parvus turns and excuses the mage guards. "Please leave us, I need a private moment with my son." His voice commands in a softer way than expected.<br>The party stirs a bit, worry filling them all as the mages bow and exit the room. The door slams shut causing them all to flinch inside.

"Dorian." Magister Parvus begins, "you can tell your friends to show themselves."  
>Uneasy, everyone holds their positions.<br>"I know why you have come Inquisitor, you do not need to hide as a slave in front of me." He makes them all aware of his understanding of the moment. "I knew my son was not here for me or a visit." The Magister continues his confession. "Inquisitor, please, you do not have to fear me as your enemy. I was never able to thank you for bringing my son to meet with me in Redcliffe. I have had time to consider his fate as well as my own.  
>"My fate?" Dorian interrupts with an irritated exhale. The Magister continues his thought. "Many years ago, we once sought friendship with your kind. We have had years of burden for what our people have done and though not many of us want to correct our wrong, my son has shown me that there is more than our society in need of protection."<br>Dorian looks on at his father in disbelief. "What are you saying?" His brow tightens revealing his compassion, unsure if what he is hearing is truth.  
>"Thank Andraste, I didn't think I could keep that up much longer." Sera busts out unable to hold her irritation for the situation in any longer.<br>"I lost everything when I turned you away." Magister Parvus continues. "At first, I thought this Inquisition another mindless rebellion. But, I have seen the work you all are doing, you are opening doors long hidden away. Doors many have fought and died to keep secret to include my own family. I've always known it was not right." The Magister turns now to his son. "Dorian, please accept my help as an apology for everything I have done to you. Here is the key you seek. There is a door behind the last shelf, behind it you'll find what you need. The last thing I can lead you to, there are dwarven scrolls buried in a tomb, west. With these documents you will expose more truths than this world has seen in thousands of years."  
>"Father." Dorian understanding the betrayal that is taking place, looks in sorrow at his father.<br>"Dorian, I will be fine. I will be leaving all of this, all of what I was behind. There are more of us, more than you know. You will meet with us again, when you are in need." Magister Parvus turns to exit the room. Off to the side, a few servants come out along with two others holding the faint looks of Morrigan and Dorian, clearly to fool anyone who expects betrayal. "Take the tunnel, it will lead you out in secret. We will speak again soon." The door shuts enclosing the party in a stone silence.  
>"Turning hearts and turning minds." Muin speaks out in a delicate sentiment, smiling at Dorian.<br>"Well then." Dorian for the first time in his life, speechless.  
>"Let's get the stuff already and get out of here, my skin is crawling and not in a fun way." Sera grabs her bow from behind a pillar.<br>"Indeed." Morrigan agrees and just as promised, the room holds four scrolls and an artifact, elven in origin. The party, leaves through the long narrow underground passage being let out by the docks. Meeting with one of Leliana scouts, Lavellan points out the dwarven scrolls location to the scouts as the rest of the party returns to Skyhold. Again, gaining answers and more questions.


	9. A Story Unheard

A Story Unheard

"Inquisitor, when you have a moment". Morrigan presses at Lavellan to meet with her urgency. She accommodates and meets with the insistence in Morrigan's voice.

Muin stands waiting by the eluvian holding her own hands tight. Her grace echoing an old age, crying behind her eyes, large and filled with shadow. Her skin a perfect pale, like a smooth pebble, washed over and over by the moving stream of a river. Her white hair soft, undone from the leather ties she uses to keep it in battle. It falls longer than expected. Her stature is small, shorter than the common elves of today. A whisper of their people. A piece of beauty, rare these days. The women step through the magical door, and step inside the hallowed pathways. Muin takes a moment to look longingly at the area, desolate and broken. In her eyes, a puddle forms as her memory unwinds a time long-lost. The serene moment closes quickly as she snaps back into her duty.  
>"What we have begun, I, I am concerned." Morrigan begins.<br>Lavellan pulls her attention fully to Morrigan now, breaking her soft gaze at Muin. "What is it Morrigan."  
>"Long have I sought to learn of your kind and the secrets lost to time. Long have I searched for and protected that which had been lost to all. Carrying spirits, aiding our Hero's, avoiding the witch for whom I intended to be a vessel. After taking the Well of Sorrows, I have become that much more connected to your people, to what was lost. The knowledge I hold does indeed belong to the elves, but I hope that you understand that though I do not have your ears, I do have the very soul of your people at heart." Morrigan begins to show a fragment of what hides behind her mask. Her face revealing the hope and fear she has carried for so many years. She knows more than any elf Lavellan has met, save for Solas. She still only shadows her knowledge.<p>

"I do mean to keep many things from you, Lavellan. There is reason, your journey must be solely your own. The decisions you make cannot be tainted or distorted. This is key. Though I can lead you to destinations, what you choose, what you decide must come from your heart. I hope you understand, I am here to help." Exposing her passion, the witches' eyes look to Lavellan open and pleading. Her arms expressing the hope she has in a raised gesture.  
>"Morrigan, I know that you seek to help, but I'd be more understanding if I knew what this was all about." Lavellan breaks the sympathetic moment.<br>"You are wise to ask questions. To put our faith, solely in the trusting of others has led to many wars, when a simple question could have changed the course for many. Whether or not you trust me is one matter, only answered with time. Know you this, the things I lead you to, indeed are in good faith. What you choose to do with the knowledge is for you to decide. The answers may be different from what you imagined or want. However, will you seek it for yourself or for your people?" Morrigan lets down into the direction this conversation needs to go, provoking the will of Lavellan.  
>"Choices can be both, Morrigan." Muin interrupts.<p>

"Rarely is that true, Muin." Morrigan breaks the kindness and shows the fierce devotion she has to never expecting much good to come. Possibly related to her own service and fears of what may come from the price she has paid.  
>"Gods are never one-sided, both feared and loved in one breathe. To make decisions that make everyone love you, is unheard of. There will always be those who do not favor the result. What do you do with those who do not heed your will? Force, murder, enslave?"<br>"Morrigan, did you come to lecture me on morals?" Lavellan's insistence is pressed from her voice, stressing her discomfort with the challenge presented by the mage.  
>"Not morals, but choice. The orb, foci, it was elven. Yet Corypheus claimed he created it, shaped it to assault the heavens himself. But, how did he gain control of such a powerful elven artifact? A power belonging to one of your own people's pantheon?"<br>"We cannot answer that…unless." Lavellan gathers her thoughts putting the pieces together, "we walk through the fade. It holds remnants of memories and could going there show us?"  
>"This would be the benefit for our venture into the fade, yes. That and to stop any who try to enter themselves, however, this assault will continue until we can keep them all from corrupting the fade any further. We must find the cure for the tainted lyrium. It is a living disease. As long as it persists, the heavens are at risk. Imagine, if you will, that the gods are indeed corrupted. Who then keeps the veil? Does it break open sending every demon upon us all? If we can find this cure do we could seal everything away where they will remain safe?"<br>"Seal up the fade? But, that would take the magic away! They would never be free, Morrigan!" Muin showing her complete anger at the words she just heard come from the dark mages mouth. "You mean to destroy us!" Muin's energy begins to rise, her skin glows, and her hair starts to twist in her ire.  
>"I do not mean to kill anyone. Without this magic, I could not even be! Not here anyway. But in the heavens we could exist, in peace. Those who remain on the lands would be freed from their fears of magic and the spirits. They could live freely in their world, much like the dwarves and elves of old; to each their place."<br>"And what of the elves remaining, Morrigan?" Lavellan joining in the anger Muin is still keeping in restraint.  
>"Without magic, who could fear them anymore?" Morrigan relays her thought. Full well knowing it is an unpopular choice. "As I stated before, I am not here to make decisions for you. But, it is something to give thought. Your gods are already locked away, according to legend, the elves that remain already lost. Why not protect what is left? Why not keep them where they are the safest?"<br>"This affects everyone Morrigan. We have not what happens when magic leaves this world. We do not know what could happen if you take away everything that remains. No! I am not going to imprison magic!" Lavellan's heat permeates off of her like a mist thrust into the air after a crashing wave.  
>"Morrigan, there are still those of us who endure, you would be sentencing them to a choice of being locked away or death. There is no honor in that choice." Muin echoes the sentiment that has rung throughout centuries.<p>

"I only bring up the option, Inquisitor." Morrigan makes plea to her reasoning. "What kind of adviser would I be otherwise? As I stated, the choice is not mine to make." Morrigan grasping to regain some face in front of the two elves standing before her.  
>"That is not an option I will entertain, Morrigan." Lavellan breaks her voice in this moment. "Everyone deserves freedom, whether they are spirit or mortal. If my life is the sacrifice to keep them all free? I am prepared to give it." Her eyes fill with passion and determination. "I am the key you claim, my blood. I will protect them, even if that means from you."<br>"You and any who remain, such as Muin." Morrigan moves the topic knowing the spirits of her companions, knowing that their wills are not changed. She will take the distrust, the ire. It is her place. The answer she was seeking, pure champions. A force she will need for what comes.  
>"Yes, those who remain." Muin calming back into her softness.<br>"Inquisitor, do you remember Abelas?" Morrigan sets the new path.  
>"From the Well of Sorrow, yes."<br>"He remains?" Muins eyes fill with an enthusiasm neither of them had seen in her.  
>"Indeed, he was who lead me to your people Muin. He has searched long in his journey. Now residing in yet another clan that has remained untouched."<br>"So there are more." Lavellan looks down at the place her feet stand. She somehow knew that they all could not have fallen. "Can we meet with him, does he know of anything that can help us further?"  
>"This is why I wanted to initially speak with you. Revealing these places could bring danger in the wrong hands." Morrigan showing the intent their stirred conversation was meant for. While the dwarves work with the people in research for the cure to this, tainted lyrium infection and gather information in the case that we meet with the dwarven paragons, it would be in our interest to speak with Abelas."<br>"Would he be willing to speak with us?" Lavellan showing her understanding of the delicate place they are in.  
>"I do not know his willingness, but I do know that we have someone with us who he would be thankful to see." Morrigan gestures over to Muin who stands looking more bashful than anything else in this moment. "She might be reason enough for him to meet with us and see that we are not seeking malice. If nothing more than to learn more of your people, we can at least keep them aware of our efforts."<br>"Does this mean you know where he is?"  
>"Indeed and I am ready to leave when you are." Morrigan waves her hand toward the eluvian, to display the closing of this conversation.<p>

Sera is in her room pacing back and forth. Something clearly stirring within her.  
>"I have a lead, my people came across some shite that needs to be stopped. Mages and their magic. Stupid assbuckets need a room of bees."<br>"We will look into it Sera." Lavellan reassures the disturbed elf.  
>"Good then, get to it." Sera expresses how serious the matter is, in her way. "Demons everywhere, maybe it's not just the elves, maybe it is everyone, we are all demons…" Sera goes on mumbling as Lavellan walks out of her room, clearly troubled by the lead.<p>

Checking in with Cole, Lavellan finds no trace. She often has to seek him out, this time she finds him sitting on the walls of the battlements. Walking up, she sees him sitting looking out toward the mountains.  
>"Are you alright, Cole?" She asks the spirit who she has come to care deeply for.<br>"No. I can't hear it anymore. I find pieces, whispers. I feel the hurt. Then is goes away. Muin helped. She gave me more. I can reach it. The hurt, it calls to me. But as soon as I get to it. It goes away." His frustration shows through his gnashed teeth.  
>"What does this mean Cole?"<br>"He doesn't want me to. But, I have to. It's a hurt I can help heal. I can help. He doesn't have to be alone. Alone only makes it worse. Makes it more real, it doesn't have to be."  
>"You are talking about Solas aren't you Cole?"<br>"Yes. I can still feel him. He has changed but it is still him. Why would anyone not want help?" Upset by being unable to understand, the spirit is in pain for his friend.  
>"Maybe he needs it Cole." Lavellan tries to bring comfort.<br>"Like you?" He begins to speak her pain. "He touches me deeper. His face fading, trying to hold the memory, can't let it go. I love him. His lips soft, a touch felt deep. The marks are gone, he is changing me. NO! No, don't go. Why? Don't leave me. I still don't understand. Pillow soaked in tears, the pain cuts through, but the memory is sweeter than never feeling anything."  
>Lavellan looks on with tears in her own eyes as the spirit sings her pain.<br>"You keep the hurt, to remember. Without it, you are afraid you will forget. Even if he wants you to. You can't, you shouldn't, he doesn't forget." Cole breaking in and out between sorrow and anger, fluctuating between the emotions that love causes. "He is afraid. But he has a plan, I just can't reach it."  
>"Cole, we will find him. Then we can both get answers."<br>"I'd like that." The kindred spirit comforted by her reply.  
>Wrapping her arm around him the elf rests her head on his arm as they watch the snow blowing along the mountain tops.<p>

In the war room, Lavellan deploys Leliana's agents to Sera's concern. Cullen's troops overseeing some efforts to build and rebuild structures to house the elven people as negotiations are taking place for their freedom. Josephine is overseeing the silencing of nobles who are feuding the release of their slaves. Progress slow, but in action. The dwarves have gone to secure a meet with the Elder they seek. Has Dorian finished reviewing the scrolls from Tevinter? Not yet, he is with the scholars now. It'll take some time to decode the ancient Tevinter. A Tevinter Magister, on our side? It seems so hard to believe. We got the articles, did we not? Has Morrigan gained anymore insight on the dragon in Tevinter?

Lavellan leaves her advisers to discuss among themselves, with a long journey ahead, she gathers her party and ventures into the unknown.  
>The party traveled far west to a land covered in lush trees and massive foliage.<p>

Haunted by a darkened scar scorching the land, younger growth fighting its way back, leading to a huge split in the earth. Rocky ledges lend hand to their travel down into the forest. The stone marked with traces of a burn as if a blast brushed the stones barely caught by the flames. "What happened here?" Lavellan asks out in open thought.  
>"This we shall find out soon enough, I imagine." Morrigan answers.<p>

Silence drops into play as the party meets the narrow opening into the forest. Trees, towering over head stand showing the age of the forest, towering in height. Unkempt natural. Bright greens set the scene, flowers bloom, large as if they fight to bring color to the landscape. Halla bounce by, exotic birds flutter as they stir the forest with their steps, squawking as they warn of the approaching strangers.  
>"They know." Cole whispers.<br>"Do not make any sudden movements." Morrigan warns the party, even though they clearly know. The group need not wait as they are met quickly, arrows pointing from every direction. Small glimmers reflecting light off of the golden armor and chain mail. The forest lay in complete silence as the birds fly off and the beasts of the land clear.  
>"We do not come here to fight." Morrigan yells out the cliché that comes naturally.<br>No response comes, bows still drawn. Lavellan looks to Muin.  
>Muin steps forward, dropping her hood exposing her face. She speaks out, "Ma har Elvhen? Atish falon."<br>Their bows still drawn, a voice breaks through coming from the woods in front of them.  
>"Hren, atisha. Viran se lan'aan? " The warrior now showing his form, small and youthful, yet his voice carries age. His golden armor boasting his well-trained body. Silk drapes over his golden armor, His staff in hand like a walking stick. His face marked with the vallaslin of Mythal, dark red hair falls down his back held in braids. His eyes boast a sharp blue that stirs the visitors unsure of their welcome.<br>"Var shiral, Tarasyl'an Te'las." Muins speaks softly.  
>"Tarasyl'an Te'las?" The elf eyes the group, as if he had expected a different vision of them, upon their arrival. "You speak of a place long-lost, but there is truth in you." He walks closer, still surrounded by a wall of archers, drawn, intent.<br>Eyeing Cole with a deep penetration, he asks a question only the spirit can hear.  
>Cole answers out loud to show his trust in his companions. "Yes, I am among them."<br>It is to be assumed that he asked if the spirit chose to walk among them, or was forced as spirits are usually not see in travels. The elf then turns to Morrigan. "You carry what does not belong to you human."  
>"I carry what I was willing to make the sacrifice for, a gift from your people." She taunts at the elf. The elf laughs out, "Our people? I can only assume you mean this half-blood."<br>Now turning his attention to Lavellan. "I come only to share what we know, that is all." Lavellan boldly makes her place. The elf raises his arm, signaling the arches to stay their bows. All at once, in uniform they lower their weapons. The elf turns to walk and gestures them to follow without words.  
>"I guess we follow him then?" Morrigan lets out her held back breath.<br>The group fades off into the dense forest behind the mysterious elf.

The elves have made their home in the boasting trees. Bridges built marking where the magic used to connect them. Echoes of a time past still remain, some magic's still bind the village. Healers teaching techniques, archers shooting at targets held up by magic, hunters cleaning their kills using their hands glowing along the beast's carcasses. No one elf is without some sort of magic in this forest home.

Muin stilled for a moment, focused on an image in the distance.  
>"Heart beats out. The arrow sharp in her leg, she tries to make her way back to the village, it's far. She is getting cold, losing feeling in her leg. Her magic, still young focused on her leg, vulnerable. His hands around her, quickly he runs telling her to hold on. She is warm in bed. The healers mending her. He never leaves her side." Coles lets out her memory.<br>Turning to meet her gaze, he must sense her. _Abelas_, she whispers leaving the group to embrace her friend.  
>"Well, the world sure is a small place isn't it." Morrigan stares, crossing her arms, at the two as they meet after many years. Exchanging greeting and awe of their survival to meet again. Looking up after a joyful greeting to meet eyes with the faces he has seen before.<br>"So we meet again." Morrigan smirks.  
>"I see you have survived, human." He cuts into her, reminded of the service he walked away from. Looking the group over further, not seeing the one whom he connected with.<br>"He walks alone, returned." Cole answers his thoughts.  
>Abelas looks sharply at Cole, "You come freely?"<br>"Yes, here I can help." Cole replies.  
>Turning his gaze to Lavellan. "Your stories reach even here, Lethallan."<br>Muin breaks in, showing a feminine spirit, a sign of her honor given to her old friend.  
>"Abelas, we have much to catch up on, however there is purpose to our visit."<br>"Old friend, I never imagined to see you her please let us walk, excuse us." Bowing to the group leading Muin off to view the village.  
>"Well, I guess we are on our own for now, we must meet with the keeper." Morrigan advises.<p>

Stirring from a sleep deeper than any she has had. Her soul feeling refreshed, calmed, and peaceful. Any wounds she carried, healed. Youth marks her skin again. The bed, like a cloud hovers over the carved floor. Imprints of the trees rings decorate the room, giving way to texture. Deep scents of cinnamon and fresh herbs greet her nose. Her armor stands in the corner, cleaned, blades sharpened. Flowers mark the floor in a simple path.

Meeting outside, she sees her friends speaking with Muin and Abelas. She walks to greet them. "I trust you slept well." Muin greets her, showing the respect she has gained for her companion.  
>"Very well, ma serannas." Lavellan replies to the one she finds friendship with.<br>"It is only mere echoes of what once was, but we endure. Muin has spoken of your task ahead. I have many thanks to give to the one whom you once traveled with. I will help in any way I can."

"Abelas has been very useful in helping to decipher some of the visions we may just have a path after all." Morrigan relays the work they have been doing while Lavellan slept. "Abelas is interested in our procurement of the old elven scrolls and artifacts we have found."  
>"I would appreciate any help you can give, Abelas. The artifacts belong with the people and will brought back to them."<br>"If you truly seek to free our people, to bring peace to our lands?" His stare searches inside her pushing hard at her will.  
>"My only goal is to see peace returned, though I am still unsure how we can do this without help from something more powerful than us." Lavellan lets out her intent to find more who can help. Abelas eyes her, looking hard at her face.<br>"You have been freed from what your people marked you." Looking harder now, he stirs emotions in her. "You already have power on your side, a power you have obviously refused." He means to question her about the Well.  
>"I am not after power for myself, I only want peace for our people." She admits her true intent.<br>"There is more that you wish, da'len. Marked, wounded, but still he believes in you and you him." Abelas reads her like a book left open in the wind.  
>"He is right, you are a very rare spirit." He presses further into her before she stops him. Understanding why she guards this, the elven sentinel continues.<br>"You have my aid as long as you remain uncorrupted. I will meet with your spymaster and send what aid I can. If this sickness has a cure, much will change for us all." His words heavy in the air. "Walk with me." Gesturing Lavellan towards the path Muin walked down upon their arrival.

The path, marked with the homes and shelters of the elvhen breaks away. They walk toward the sound of the water. It's only at this moment that she realizes how far up they are. The edge of the land cut off to reveal a ravine filling with water falling from a higher ledge down to a stream below. A barrier of magic lay as a fence, protecting any from falling down below. Abelas rests his arms on the surface of this enchanted fence, looking out over the falls, he begins the conversation.  
>"What do you know of the ones your people refer to as gods, Lethallen?" Not an uncommon question for a dalish to be asked.<br>"Honestly, I have heard the stories as any dalish, some feared and some loved. In my journeys I have come to question them, not even sure if they were even truly gods or mere tales." She admits, knowing he will see past any cover she tries to hold up.  
>"You question, that is not something often found from the dalish. But, you are more than a dalish, to think an immortal would seek out a dalish?" He shakes his head.<br>Lavellan looks at him in a frown, showing her distaste.  
>"What does that mean now? We are all headed to the same place, are we not? You cannot lose faith, Lethallen. You may have lost the knowledge your people held, but you have gained truth. What a place to leave you, mala suledin nadas. You understand that many of our kind became corrupted turned away from the truth; you however, shown kindness, left free. He must have had great respect for you to do such a thing. Many would have done the opposite and marked you in their service. Touched by rebellion and you didn't even flinch."<br>"Touched by rebellion? Are you referring to the mark?" Lavellan turns her head in question exposing that naivety still lay within the elf.  
>"You will understand at the right time." Abelas answers firmly. "If you were given the answers, how could you make a genuine decision?" Looking deeply into her, she quiets her thought.<p>

"Back at the well, you spoke of Fen'harel having nothing to do with Mythal's death and that the elves warred among themselves, causing their own fall. What more can you tell me?"

"There is much to understand, but I will give you what knowledge I can. For now, accept this. The elves did war among themselves, some happy with the simple works of nature and their people, watching over their kingdom's. It was a different world then, there was not a veil, spirits and elves lived among each other.

We lived in eternity, building up our people and the world around us. But, like most children some wanted more. The wars were powerful, malicious, and childish much like you, there were those who tried to stop it, those whom fought for peace.

During this time, the humans took notice and with a lust to have what only our people held, they attacked. This only made those who fell to the power more proud. They gave them magic's and abilities that were beyond the human's control. Finding joy in this, they found ways to mislead the elves, tricking them. Teaching them fear and distrust. The elven kind, confused and lost not knowing who to follow.

With little end in sight and those who ruled in peace falling, the remaining came to a place of meeting, it was at this time that Mythal was murdered. In his rage, the one the dalish know as Fen'harel took her foci and sealed them all away, so no more harm could come. The Golden city held in a veil, keeping the two worlds from ever meeting again. It is believed that it was during this time the young pantheon took on the spirit of rebellion to aid him in this feat, thus becoming known as the Dread Wolf among your kind. Unable to understand what was going on, the elven kind ran in fear to the humans; who in their lies promised them hope."

Abelas sinks his head down as if to hide his face. We became the nightmare they envisioned us as to keep them away and protect what was left.  
>"So the Fen'harel was an ancient elf who fought to protect what could not be lost by summoning a spirit and letting it…possess him?" Lavellan focusing on the way lore twists a hero.<p>

"Many carry the spirits of another, our form is only but a vessel after all. This was not just some random spirit. The spirit itself was of rebellion. No mere person is granted the gifts these spirits possess, often times attained in times of great need, to those who prove worthy. If taken by an ill guided person, what do you think would become? If instead of Compassion, the one who calls himself Cole had Justice?  
>"Like Anders. His person was good, but the Justice he carried took control." Lavellan shows her understanding of the point Abelas means to make.<br>Looking on in approval he continues. "How do you know that you do not carry one? Tell me, after the human consumed the Well did you see anything? Experience anything of your own?"

"I remember running to Morrigan's aid, then he came we had to go through the eluvian. I looked back. A form glowing brightly came up and followed us into the eluvian. After that… no nothing."

Abelas looks deeply into her again, pushing at her will even harder now. "You must know, spirits are draw to one such as yours. You must stay mindful, as it does not just attract spirits, demons will find their way as well." He begins to break away from the conversation, as the day is getting late and much travel ahead. "Just know this Lethallan, when your time comes to choose, do not let the muses of vengeance or greed guide you. Your spirit, the one you carry is rare and can overpower more than the gods may even know. Love, faith, and desire are very strong. You do not need anything more. Tel garas solasan Lethallen and I will fight, if need be, by your side."


	10. Another Step Forward

Another Step forward

Shaking, cold wet sweat drips down his face, betrayal approaching his tongue. The blade rests hard on his throat, even the smallest drop hitting the floor echoes in the stone room.  
>"My brothers!" He breaks out in desperation. "I don't know what you speak of."<br>His eyes reflecting the fear that builds up inside. Heart pounds against his breath.  
>Traces of red line his face from the blood filling his veins.<br>She presses harder on his broad chest.  
>"Tell us where it is!" She towers over the dwarf who sits vulnerable on his stone throne. Dark in her intent. Leliana, devoid of any emotion stares down into the elder dwarfs eyes invoking fear.<br>Brovil steps forward, "This is not the time to play hero, friend. We have already spoke to the others. We know you hold the information we seek and our human friend here does not need you to find it."  
>The three dwarves, standing behind Leliana showing holding firm in the devotion to the cause, pressure the hardened dwarf.<br>"My family, they will lose everything, I cannot betray the masters." His pleas fall on empty hearts.  
>"Your family will lose more than that if you refuse." Leliana's blade now beginning to cut in, just breaking flesh. The dwarf refuses, staring into the eyes of his enemy. He has made his position clear. Leliana's eyes narrow as she cuts deep and fast leaving him lifeless in his stone throne.<br>"Stubborn as ever." She wipes her blade with a delicate grace his blood wiped from her hands. Shaking his head, "if only they knew what they stand in favor of." Brovil releases his disappointment.

"Let's retrieve what we came for and get out of here before anyone comes looking. Dispose of him." Leliana begins searching the room. The dwarven brothers joining her while the scouts carry out the dwarf's body to place him in the underground. Ano gestures to his brother, pointing at the lockbox behind the stone seat, still dripping fresh with blood. Brovil, picks the lock, revealing a key to the deep roads and some scribbled instructions on a parchment. Leliana has gathered some ancient texts. Collecting the items the group leaves in haste. Discovery is not an option.

Lavellan and her party have returned to Skyhold. Leaving the comforts of the elven village was bittersweet for them all. Although, it is clear that Muin was hit the hardest. Before Lavellan can take a moment to catch up, she must check in with her advisers. The Great Hall holds many voices, gossip and conversations echo around her. Whispers of the struggles of those questioning why they must release their slaves, twisting their stance into a kindness, arguing that the elves only know this way of life. Varric is busy at the table, warmed by the fire. Dealing with the release of his new series no doubt. Looking forward to the business at hand, Lavellan shadows this same focus as she makes her way to the war room. Passing Josephine as she gathers her paper work to meet the call. Cullen and Leliana soon follow in behind. The map, still filled with the challenges facing the Inquisition.

The reports from Sera's request have come in. It seems that a family in Val Royeaux had been funding a Magisters claimed research and upon hearing word that the Inquisition was hunting any rogue factions had decided to pull their funding. In retaliation, the Magister cursed the head of the household, infecting him with a demon who was killing off the elven servants. It was an easy enough task to kill this demon. The connection to the magister, was the fruitful outcome. Uncovering these cells, is a major focus. Leliana has already sent spies to follow this lead. The Magisters fate, set.  
>"Why do I get the feeling that we will have to rid all of Tevinter to end this?" Cullen lets out his wish.<br>"It would solve a lot of issues, but would not look favorable." Josephine answers his wishful thought.  
>Cullen lets out an irritated sigh, his distaste for Orlais is never held back.<br>Josephine is concluding the meeting with Briala and Celene, "I am afraid you may need to stay your tongue, Cullen. You may find yourself attending an event sooner than later." Josephine leads on to the affair they are planning once they have concluded the negotiations.  
>Leliana, I trust we have made progress with the dwarves? Lavellan addresses the next step in the plot.<br>"Indeed, we secured the documents and found a new passage in the deep roads that leads to a highly secured area. My scouts turned back seeing how guarded it was. It will need your attention. We have cleared the way, when you are ready." Leliana points out the marker with such delicate hands.

Lavellan informs the advisers of their cooperation with Abelas and his elves. Sending them any scrolls and artifacts needed for their research. Leliana takes the lead, knowing their seclusion is a life or death matter.

One more trip out of the war room, one more walk past Josephine's busy desk, the crackling of the fire. One more walk through the great hall, one more step forward. Lavellan walks up the steps, to meet with her dear friend. He has returned from his visit with the scholars and has much to discuss.  
>"I never would have imagined, my father." Dorian starts out with the immediate thought affecting him.<br>"I assume his information was useful?"  
>"Quite. In fact, with the information procured we can directly tie not only the enslavement of your people, but also the ties to the Magisters involved in buying out of the dwarven treaties. Did you know that in these agreements, the dwarfs sold their own people into the service of Tevinter? Just rewriting their history, no big deal." Dorian rests his hand on his chin, "I wonder what greed must lay inside someone to agree to such terms, or demon." Dorian, moving his hand from his chin looks solid at Lavellan.<br>"You think possession was at play?"  
>"What else could have influenced such an agreement, you'd have to have been mad. Oh! Take our people's freedom and rewrite the history to your favor? Sure sounds good to us?!"<br>"It's a valid point. Demons shaping history, just as gods. The fighting never ends, so much life wasted. Freedom lost, dreams broken, fear consuming everyone. These are not the works of gods."  
>"Are they not?" Dorian looks with intent at Lavellan. "Not every god has pure resolve, as you very well know."<br>"Dorian, Corypheus was no god, though he begged for their power, he corrupted everything he took. Those are not the actions of a god."  
>"I suppose that makes sense, depending on how you view these gods."<br>"I view them as the forces that give us strength to fight what has imprisoned us all, to stop the corruption. Sometime, the wrong people find them. Do you disagree?"  
>"Not at all, in fact that view brings more comfort than you know." Dorian walks towards the ledge of the rotunda. Looking down at the paintings, depicting Lavellan's choices below. "If this is just a corruption, then it's something that might be fixed, cured. It means that my people have hope. We have a way out of being the all evil Tevinter Imperium." Dorian uses his vocal to emphasize the spooky sentiments people hold.<br>"We have hope." Dorian smiles in the optimism he holds. "Without you, who would even know of this hope? You never tire, you just go through the motions as if they were written for you. Do you ever stop and wonder - what if we cannot stop it?" Dorian always keeping her in check. She smiles remembering that she beat him in their last game match. "Of course I wonder, but if I don't have hope, then my path fades and we are left without trying, without knowing. I'd rather try and fail then turn away." Lavellan meets his play. "Plus, I have the company of some pretty amazing people who I cannot let down. The world just would not be as wonderful without them in it." Smiling in her cunning way she joins Dorians gaze down at the paintings below.  
>"Do you ever miss him?"<br>"Everyday." She confides in her dear friend.

Leaving her friend to his thoughts in this peaceful moment, Lavellan heads to the Great Hall balcony. Vivienne now in her service reestablishing the rite of circles and working to find a noble balance that favors all, Muin now replaces the enchanter's position at the helm of the Hall. It is hard to remember how powerful the small elf is at times. Her delicate grace has such a pureness about it. Then again Lavellan has never been on the other side of her blades.

Approaching the noble elf, she sits writing something down in haste. Lavellan stands waiting for the quill to stop as not to disturb her in her moment.  
>"I greet you." Muin says quietly as she finishes her letter, now standing to meet eyes with Lavellan.<br>"I did not mean to interrupt."  
>"It is nothing, think no more. I just, I just wanted to get a message to Abelas." Her face warms. "You two new each other well?"<br>"He came to my village to help with our training, becoming a sentinel is not a feat that happens without much devotion. He helped me, I guess he saw more in me, than I saw in myself at the time. He helped me to learn beyond myself. If it were not for him, I don't think I would have made it far. Though he refuses such notions." She brushes back a long strand of hair that had found a way to fall from her pointy ear.  
>"He was your trainer, that's romantic." Lavellan smiles pushes at her for more detail.<br>"Oh! No, no. I hold great honor for him, he was a great mentor. I own him much. Including my knee." She smiles thinking of his valiant rescue.  
>"Oh come on, Muin. The looks you two shared tells me something more." Lavellan pushes further. "In service…" Muin begins before Lavellan cuts her off. "You were freed of that service Muin, it is just us talking."<p>

She smiles knowing that Lavellan might not fully understand that her service remains, though she appreciates the gesture of inviting friendship. "I suppose there could be more, but it's been so long. You understand, living without love, it never quite leaves you. It holds you, whispering dreams in the night. Never letting you go. What is a life worth living if there is not someone to love you? When our kind breathed the magic this wait would seem as nothing, but now that magic fades, as we age, as we lose more and more, it is frightening to not know what time you really have." Her hand, slender and fragile brushes back a wisp of hair. Delicate in all of her features, trying to wrap her head around her brutality, it was easy to get lost in her.

"Are you at risk?" Lavellan more curious about how immortality works, breaks her gaze.

"Not for as long as I hold our song, but if all is truly lost, I am uncertain of what happens to us. I sorrow for what you must struggle through, Lethallan. I hope you find the answer you need. Know this, as I have come to know you I do truly hope you choose happiness."  
>"Do all of you possess the ability to search inside ones thoughts and feelings so deeply?"<br>"Do you not?" Muin questions Lavellan. "You cannot look at a friend and know what they feel or how they think? You carry this as well, but how much do you practice it? Do you visit them in dreams? Walking their path in the fade? They are spirits too, connected to the veil. In truth, we would know more of each other if we would just meet as spirits, nothing to obstruct from a deeper understanding." With an ever so graceful movement she invites Lavellan to join her.

Unraveling the hard surfaces of the world and exposing what everything veiled. Together they stand, facing each other in Setheneran. "Here you can know me."

Muin smiles at her friend, ready to show her the pieces that make up who she is.  
>A vision comes into focus as an aspect of Muin walks forward, swaying her hips slowly up to a fallen elf. The elf recently collapsed from battle, still breathing his wounds mark him deep. Blood soaking his thin elven armor. His eyes already losing the light as he reaches for her coughing up his blood from the wounds within. Like a vision, her light begins to glow. Her silken robes flowing open exposing her golden armor as she leans further down to face him. The tips of her long white hair falls to his body; adding another layer of red from his blood. Locking her eyes on the fallen elf she pulls what life is left inside of him out, releasing him from the torment that tore through his body. Her large grey eyes sunken in and filled with despair, teeming with tears, begin to break. Those tears dropping down to her peach lips go unnoticed until one tickles her nose. Raising her dirty blood-stained hand to wipe the tear away, she looks up and out to see the many more fallen, left behind to die, reaching out still fighting for life. The bottoms of her robes stained in the elven blood and dirt from the broken ground. Her hands drop to her side, darkened from the many times she touched the many wounds of all the elvhen, fallen to the war. As she slowly rises to walk to the next, Lavellan realizes that Muin must have touched every one of them in their last moments. Standing hand in hand, the two elf's watch as Muin's story continues to unfold, a sentinel healer.<p>

Lavellan wakes finding herself in her bed, comforted in knowing her friend in spirit as well as the warrior that fights by her side. She no longer needs to understand Muin's fight.


	11. Deep Down Trouble

Deep Down Trouble

Cassandra waits for Lavellan to step out of her quarters, pacing the great hall early, so much she must address with her friend. The fires are burning a bit hotter this day or maybe she has just paced this room too long. Becoming Divine has been even more eye-opening than she ever imagined. Never entering anything she does with a simple mind, her passion for justice and truth, seen in every choice she makes. All expected her to continue pushing the limits of what the Chantry represents and how the Seekers should continue. Still uneasy about allowing mages full rights to freedom, there is still much discussion on how to secure the safest path for all. Vivienne, now securing her noble right in Val Royeaux has pledged to recover circles that only permit necessary restrictions, however, the push to educate is winning the battle in hopes that circles will become colleges that hold the same place as a Chantry would in villages for those gifted.

Lavellan exits her room and met readily by her thought filled friend. |  
>"What brings you this day?" Lavellan looks dearly at her friend.<br>"Well, many things if I am to be honest. So much change happening it seems endless to keep up, at times." Cassandra confiding in her friend.  
>"And to think, we are only at a beginning?" Lavellan smirks in a taunting way at her dear friend. "Ah, you must remind me, as if I needed more weight." Cassandra's well know grunt greets Lavellan with comfort, pleased to see the hat had not completely drown out her friend.<br>"The dragon we came across has not been seen since our departure. It seems that it is not connected to Tevinter after all." Cassandra breaks the casualty.  
>"So, whatever is in that temple is indeed guarded by the dragon, as Morrigan suspected?"<br>"It appears to be so. The village also seems void of any Tevinter living there, in fact it seems no one beyond the occasional bandit. I am afraid that is as far as our reach has taken us on the matter, perhaps Morrigan can find out more from her sources."  
>"Well, I suppose that is a door that won't be opening anytime soon."<br>"It may be for good reason. Though Morrigan is still requesting to work with our dragonologist." Cassandra expressing her concern of leaving what is well enough alone.  
>"I believe Morrigan has good reason."<br>"Let us hope, Inquisitor." Cassandra frowns at the alternative.  
>"I am concerned about our relations with the Dwarves, Inquisitor. Long have they been in the service of Tevinter as it seems, every time any of them branched out to help their old elven friends, nothing good came of the union. I am sure you are familiar with the events of Cad'halash."<br>"When they tried to aid the elves who were escaping the fall of Arlathan, they were all killed by the dwarves of Kal-Sharok." Lavellan shows her knowledge on the situation.  
>"You must know then…" Cassandra stops and looks toward Varric as he comes walking up.<br>"I felt a ringing in my ears, should have guessed it was you. Let me guess you are about to delve into the stories of us dwarfs?" Varric slyly exposing what he heard.  
>"Do you just linger waiting for me to show up, Varric?" Cassandra showing her frustration.<br>"Just want to make sure you don't completely scare off our friend here, Divine." Varric cuts back at her. "But, please continue, don't let little old me stop you two."  
>Cassandra cuts down a look of irritation at Varric. "Like I was saying, nothing good has come from any attempts to break the hold Tevinter has on the dwarfs and their precious economy. It's been an alliance for two thousand years." Cassandra finishes her interrupted thought.<br>"For once Divine, I am afraid to say that I agree. They are a powerful alliance, no matter what was in the past."  
>"Honestly, our only goal is securing what we need for any resistance they may bring. War is not my intention, but if we do face a threat, we need more than troops on our side. For now, our focus is on finding a cure and stopping those from entering the fade." Lavellan clears the fears of a mighty march anytime soon.<br>"Well, let's just hope Leliana has been overly careful in her talks and … securements."

"We are working very closely, making sure every trace is covered Varric. Have some faith." Cassandra reaffirms her place in the matter.  
>"This last journey, it is risky. However, from what Leliana has told me. The information will uncover a solution." Varric lets in his knowledge.<br>"We best be off then." Levellan cutting the conversation short, ready for what may come.  
>"Just don't die, we still need you to keep these crazy mage's from assaulting the fade." Varric looks to Cassandra with a bit of worry for their friend.<br>"I pray Leliana is right." Cassandra answers Varric's concern.

Iron Bull sits at the bar, Krem and the chargers are out doing sweeps with Cullen's men, after the leads given to them of the possible locations of these crazed Mage's and Templars. Lavellan steals the moment her friend. "Are you ready to meet the deep roads again Bull?"  
>"Ready and waiting boss. Nothing beats a fight along your side." Bulls hold great honor in his face. She can see it, clearly now. "Well, then, grab Dorian. We are off." Smiling and tapping her large friend on the shoulder as she stands to visit Sera and Cole before their departure.<br>"I never really understood dwarves. They are funny, yeah? So you are going to get whatever it is to make things not sick anymore, right?" Sera shows more desperation than Lavellan had noticed before. Her spirit is playful, but her face holds meaning and purpose. She doesn't just push it all away, she holds it like a child, trying to understand it, but she can't or won't allow herself.  
>"That's the plan, you hear of any news?"<br>"Yeah, some guy named Thrull was asking around about you, says he wants a challenge. Not sure what that's about, but I'd keep an eye out." Sera goes back to her mumbling. As Lavellan walks her way out and up to see Cole.  
>"They use it. They infect what is not sick. That scares me."<br>"We will stop it Cole."  
>"If we don't, everything dies." Cole never has been known for using comforting words to hide the truth they all face.<p>

Meeting at the forward camp Harding has set up she notifies the Inquisitor of some bandit activity in the area, before the party heads out. Out on the roads, the party has walked for some time now. Meeting with bandits and bounty hunters. Nothing new for the party of friends. The roads they walk are well used, open lands filled with slight hills and grassy landscape with a big blue sky above holding the bright sun. Mountains shadow in the background as they walk toward their map location. A well-worn wooden bridge comes into view, slight glistens of metal show that there may be bandits ahead.  
>"Well, that's not very stealthy." A sigh from Dorian in play.<br>"If you want I can bounce an arrow of one of 'em, just to let them know." Varric joins the jest. The party quiets now as they approach the group ahead. "Inquisitor!" A voice calls out.  
>"I have come to challenge you!" A large man, amassed in heavy armor and a huge sword steps out.<br>"He wears the Mercy's Crest." Bull lets out what they all sharply recognize.

"He does have a mighty sword." Dorian breaks out… "What? Nobody? Where is Sera when you need her?" Dorian lets out his disappointment with the lack of follow-up.  
>"So, you have come to challenge me, for the Blades? I suppose nothing will change your mind?"<br>Please say no, please say no… everyone can hear Bulls hushed chant in the background.  
>"I have come to challenge you." Nothing more said as the brute draws his sword.<br>"So be it."  
>The brute and his men put up a good fight, but their might was no match for the group, experienced as they were.<br>"Disappointing," Bull mumbles.  
>"Just think of it as a warm up." Dorian suggests.<p>

The group had honestly forgot that Lavellan was leader of the Blades. It almost seems trivial. They muse themselves with the notion that some guy named Thrull was even considered a lead. Continuing on, the stones seem to double in size as the path begins to narrow. The party is fully walled in by the large stones carved from the rocks; guarded they walk down the path. The smell of dirt fills the air, stale as if there had not been a breeze to blow by in ages. Small rocks kick underfoot, the ground seems to thirst here, cracking under the dry conditions. Any sign of greenery has long been missing on this path. The stone darkens in color and becomes glossy in texture as they approach their marked location. Old weathered pillars mark what once must have been the massive entrance to this roads site. A Smokey mist, showing hints of red floats in the air around them as they approach the once grand entrance.

Silence holds the tongues of everyone. In this moment they know answers lay behind those doors or a lost fate awaits them. Breathe held tight in their lungs. Minds unraveling battle stances, movements, cunning plays in preparation. Dirt dusts the air heavy, small stones tap at the ground as the great doors push open. Metal, cutting through silence, the opening looking like a crack compared to their full capability. It's all they need to slide their bodies through.

The stone walls keep their natural form. Pillars carved in place, eluding to a purpose they do not hold. The smooth stone floors go in great length. Recent activity exposed by the wooden carts left broken. Bodies of looters dot the floors. Most likely left from Leliana's scouts.  
>"I guess we are not the only ones interested in this place." Lavellan opens her thoughts.<br>"From their looks they are probably just looters." Varric tries to calm the intensity they all feel. "We do know guards are nearby." Lavellan answers keeping them focused. Her disposition changed in these moments. What was once soft in her, you'd never know if having only seen her on the battlefield.

She strikes no immediate fear in those who oppose her, their arrogance keeps them feeling superior. However, once her blades become drawn and the eyes behind her light up echoing the same, the mood quickly changes. They appear as quickly as spirits and as brutal as demons. A fierce pack, skilled with intent. Idealized, they stand as guardians of what is righteous. Gifted by the gods, led by the hand of the Maker. They are champions. This does not hold true in the eyes of those who oppose the rebel Inquisition. Blood stains every one of their hands, trickery and deceit follows. A pack of wolves craving the power that the Nightmare holds.

With footsteps light on the surface of the stone, the party presses forward down the long stone deep road. A carved room enclosed behind a small doorway. Inside, must lay the old merchants office or a guard station. Shelves, a desk, and chair carved out in the stone show its purpose. The room stripped clean of anything of immediate value. A small parchment lay trampled in the corner. The writing is not completely legible, the people back at Skyhold will be able to make more out. Continuing their walk further into the stone, bedrolls and crates utilized as tables begin to mark the path. Confirming the reports of Leliana's scouts.  
>"Shall we continue?" Dorian, having already surveyed the camp, sees nothing of value and presses the party forward. After a long walk of being surrounded by droll walls the road turns, opening to a set of curved stone steps leads further down. This road seems to have been built with haste. The air around them does not open up to a cool mist, nor a brighter path. The deep, darkness of the road below beckons death harrowing at their fears.<p>

"Hm, what a lovely welcome." Dorian jests, revealing his knowledge of the magic lingering. Bodies lying lifeless mark the steps as they lead them deeper down into the stone. A hallow opening leading down like an endless pit spirals a command attempting to pull at their wills. I would imagine a warrior of lesser willpower would jump right on off. Tested on more commanding levels, the party moves on in ease. This pull gains strength as their feet hit the smoothed surface, continuing the road.  
>"Er, damn deep roads." Bull lets out expressing the resistance they must muster.<br>"We must be getting close." Lavellan relieves the moment as Dorian casts a barrier around them, warding off the ill intended magic.

Not far down this part of the road, faint movements made out.  
>"There are guards up ahead."<br>"Everybody ready?" Bulls tone setting the moment.

Rage demons lurk around two wraith, standing on guard in front of two arcane warriors. Devising their plan the party splits into their roles, Dorian guarding Lavellan while directing casts at the Arcane, Bull heading the distraction pulling the wraith away, and Varric picking away at any opponent Lavellan digs her blades into. Their tactics successful and they overcome the first barrier of protection left here.

Further down the empty road, the song darkens weaving a sickness they all feel stirring within. If Cole were here he would be telling them all to not listen. Luckily, it is not the first time they have felt this sickness. A new set of doors stand before the party, clearly this section of the roads built for another purpose than what lay here now. Off in the distance, from the point they stand at now. They can see a very slight shadow of the pillars marking the main deep road and the broken, obviously purposefully blown up road that connects their location to it. This area possibly build to house a guard or caretaker of the area. It seems to have another purpose than intended.

Opening the doors to this hallowed out cave, the room boasts towers of the Red Lyrium. Like roots it has gripped on the surface of the stones. The disease clearly taking over.

In the middle of the room a stone table holding a scroll sealed in a magically sealed container sits on the table, which has been completely enclosed in a giant red lyrium vein.  
>"Well shit." Varric breaks the silence.<br>Another moment does not pass before they meet with a desire demon.  
>"Why do you come to this place, elf?" The demons voice inviting and warm.<br>"Show yourself!" Lavellan commands of the demon.  
>She appears, as a sexual vision, naked in her purple skin. A chain connects in between her generous chest, clamping the demons nipples. She exudes a sexual prowess that's hard to deny.<br>"A hot demon chic, sweet!" Bull breaks the moment.  
>"No, not sweet." Dorian cautions.<br>"What, adorable friends you have." The demon traces her hand up her thigh, tempting the party.  
>"Who has led you here?" Lavellan resists her rouses.<br>"I do not answer to you, elf!" The demons voice dark scratches at their minds.  
>"You chose to stay here?" Lavellan attempts to reason with the she beast.<br>"I take what I wish, elf." Her gaze breaking into Lavellan's will with the sickness in her dark eyes. "It has been such a very long time, I do so treasure visitors." She resumes her play pressing harder at the parties resolve. "You come for answers, what price is worth having them, elf?" The demon makes her play, lowering her torso forward, teasing her way around their minds. "None you can offer." Lavellan's hardened spirit compacting down on the demon.  
>"Come now, be reasonable, we do not have to fight." Her taunts continue.<br>"Enough of this! Ma emma harel." She commands down the demons will, indicating an attack.

Her fight she takes to the air as the demon plays around in her weightlessness, continuing to taunt the party as it casts its magic at the well-trained group. Summoning several other demons she commands. The souls of those who fell to the demons ruses since its presence in this lost ruin. Exposing its well skilled ability or the weakness of those who tempted their fate before. Either way, the desire demons power is strong and her fight lasting.

Breaking opening the last healing potion, Lavellan tosses it to Bull who has been taking the damage as he draws their attention from the rest of the party. He spins his mighty hammer around finishing off what remains. With only the desire demon left to defeat, they dig deep, summoning every last bit of power to aid their fight. Finally, she falls to their attacks, unable to pull anymore will from what surrounds her.  
>"Well, I don't know about you guys, but that was the hottest fight I've ever had." Bull pokes around at the circumstances that exposed a usually… hidden side to all of their natures.<br>"I'm glad that is over." Lavellan dismisses his jests, just wanting the situation to end.  
>"That demon must have been here for ages." Varric outspoken about the skill the demon possessed.<br>"Now we just have to get whatever is in there out."  
>"We can't just break it?" Lavellan confused by the comment, as they have destroyed many in the past.<br>"This one is rooted to something greater, possibly the beginning. Contact with this may infect us all."  
>"Aren't the dwarves resistant?" Lavellan brings up a valid point.<br>"You know who we need?" Varric now inspired by the mention. "Dagna, if anyone can do anything with it, it would be her."  
>We need to get word to the scouts back at forward camp. They can send word and set up a proper guard of the area. The team leaves, but not before searching the demon. It holds an amulet of power and a belt of superior spirit resistance. "Those would have been beneficial before we killed her, don't you think?" Dorian refers to the loot found on the demons remains. "Let's get out of here, the sooner the better." Varric releases his want to be back above ground. No one disagrees.<p> 


	12. From Below

From Below

Sitting at the tavern, Lavellan is surrounded by a few of her closest friends. Bull is already becoming garrulous after who knows how many drinks raised in praise. He has inappropriately gone on about killing a "sex demon" for the better part of the hour now. Sera is trying to push the images out of her head, having no interest in viewing tits and demons in the same picture. Blackwall has come in after months of leading some of the Inquisition forces to rid the lands of those remaining focused to Corypheus' cause. His appearance a welcomed treat. Sera turns to listen to him boast with stories of the mages he's been taking down, his joy in defending this rebel cause shines in these moments. Dorian is looking more relaxed, an opposite reaction expected after what transpired with his father. The pride has switched sides it seems, proving the heir to have great influence. Lavellan cannot help but notice the ease this creates in the mage as his eyes sparkle and his smile warms any who look at him. Varric is just happy he is out from under the ground and that is really enough for him to raise his stein. The group grows even louder as Krem and the Chargers walk in. Glad to be back in a place they now see as home. Bull loudly yells in their direction, _Horns UP_! As he knocks into a chair or two to meet them. Praises go even higher now.

The Tavern now taken over by the growing party as the minstrel sings and the barkeeper keeps the drinks pouring. Laughter overshadows as she plays. The group gathers more and more members as everyone is ending their day and wanting to join the sounds stirring from the tavern.

Lavellan excuses herself, knowing she has much to plan in the coming days and the drinks are already turning her sideways. She looks up to Cole who is watching the group celebrating below and gives him a beaming smile and sends a wave. A gesture that means much to the spirit. A nice change in the emotion, happy she remembers. Muin stands by him, holding a drink of her own, showing that she is not all spirit as she laughs at Krem buried under Bulls arm. She stops a moment to wave back at Lavellan's smile then nudges Cole to look at Sera, who has just pulled out a hat she recently _acquired_ from a nobles house.

_Moments like these will never be conveyed in history. Maybe they should be, this freedom should have a voice -_ the elf thinks as she walks out into the cold night air.

The morning came faster than expected. Trying to recover from the beast that sits on her head. A little elfroot in her tea. She needs to regain focus. The desire demon stirred more in her than she knew to prepare for. Focusing on will and guarding the parts of yourself it attempts to expose, the parts you don't want anyone to see, takes a massive amount of effort. Battles are never just about blade and blood. Every fight is a battle of will and spirit as well. A clear thought emerges.

Above and below, she has heard that many times. References that she pushed to the rear of her mind until now. Going beyond the obvious, she never really thought of how many little things those words touched. Images connecting in her mind now. Nothing can exist above if not below, she cannot exist below without above, nothing will be fixed unless they or more accurately she has both. She has found the answer, now to face the question and make a choice. Undoubtedly a choice to shape everything again once more.

"Dagna has cleared the vein holding the vase, we have what we need. There may have been more reason for these mages to enter the fade." Leliana confides the discovery. "The red lyrium had been carried there after its corruption here; planted like a seed. An assault on the very place all magic comes from, meant to destroy it all. Luckily, it moves slowly there. This could very well be the reason the gods were locked away. We find the seed these roots grow from, we kill it. Whatever that seed is, it seems to be living in someone or something alive and this may take more than we have."  
>"You mean what we have here." Lavellan exposes her piece in the play.<br>"Yes, there is still a door we have yet to knock on. One that will have to answer." Morrigan places her piece down as well.  
>"I suppose you refer to going into the fade." Cullen questioning what has to happen.<br>"We have no other choice." Cassandra standing in on the meet.  
>"No, this is too big for us, we don't have access to everything and the search will take longer than we may have. We need to seek out those that can help give us more direction through the fade." Lavellan confirms the next move.<br>"We will be sure to plan a soiree for your return." Josephine attempts to lighten the mood. All of them knowing that dangers unknown, await.  
>They break to prepare for the next day to come.<p>

Another old friend gone, turned from her purpose. A spirit of wisdom, such a terrible loss. Knowing what comes next a new pain to add to the old he still suffers. Her lips, breaking through the moment. Soft and inviting. Her heart, another thing he broke to prepare for what is to come. A rebellion now firmly in place, how he tires of the fighting. A world that should have never been, his sorrow to bare. He became familiar with. In ways attached to what was there, or moreover who was there. He knows the call that beckons. Opening that door when she knocks will be the moment it all comes to, until that knock comes, he must wait devising the next play.

Morrigan, Muin, Cassandra, and Cole stand by waiting for Lavellan. Morrigan is sure that the door they need lay behind the dragon who guards the abandoned Temple. It is their only led remaining and all of their research, has led to the desolate village of Solas in Tevinter. Such is how fate works. Connecting what now seems too obvious. Every contact, every ally waits holding their hopes high wondering if their risks will pay off. From ancient elven clans, down to the shapers of stone, even to the reaches of Tevinter Magisters all risking everything that they are; a fate she must answer for them all. What this will lead to is a weight she knowingly holds.

The companions, advisers, and spirits she has to consult all leading her to this moment. A trusting accord, a ferocious pack. Thousands of eyes glowing behind her. Ready and willing to serve her command. Their continued survival relies on her ability to gain the most powerful alliance of all. One that waits locked away. Will it open when she knocks?

Her nerves are steady ready to face what comes. Never knowing what the Fade will hold, she has to be prepared mentally as much as physically. She empties herself of everything, locking away anything that could be used against her. Remembering the burns the desire demon left, protecting what will be used against her or taken away she now knows that light can lead her, darkness is not the only escape. One more tool for her to use.

Walking out of her quarters and into the empty halls of Skyhold, she meets her companions signaling the start of their journey back to the desolate village that holds the last door she needs to walk through, marking an end to this hunt. Everyone noticing a change in their friend. A profound presents holds the moment. She is not friend or foe in this moment, she is their leader. Her eyes holding the fierce temperament of everything she holds.

Morrigan nods in approval, a faint smile paints her face. Muin stands in honor, pleased to see the light within her kin. Cole stand with his blades ready to serve. Cassandra happy to have her blade back in her hand nods her head in pride.

Leliana, Cullen, and Josephine stand ready to see their Inquisitor off. The spies gather, ready to lead the party to the wasted land. As all of Thedas is going on about their lives, having no clue that history's path is being laid. The secrets of this hunt well-kept. The group begins their long journey to the Silent Plains.

The haze of these desert plains reflects against the party's armor. The burning sun beating down. The village is just in the distance, barely seen behind all the blowing sand. Knowing their passage waits behind a beast of great strength, they reserve everything they have for the fight that awaits.

The bodies still lay, now covered in sand, from their previous visit. No one has come to take new claim of the area, its desolation a still reminder of what protects this ruin.

Morrigan awaits her call building up the will she needs to summon, as the team digs deep within their own wills, knowing they will have to weaken the dragon for it to take flight. A few more steps and they are beyond the sandstone walls. The energy already changing as the party looks on the dragon, its massive black form curled up in front of the ruin it protects. Lavellan raises her arm, blade in hand hushed ready to give the signal. Morrigan waits behind the walls, listening for the growl of the dragon to signal her charge. Cassandras hand firmly gripping her blade, as her knuckles turn white under her armor. Muin holds a blade in one hand and begins charging her magic in the other, finding her fighting stance. Cole disappears fading into his spirit form, pulling his blades from his back crossing down over his head.

With a drop of her arm they begin the fight, waking the sleeping black beast to a fight for its survival. Blades cut into the dragons legs, penetrating deep into its hardened skin. Muin throws a barrier as the dragon turns to face her helping to deflect the guardian's attacks, she casts her destructive light. Cassandra proving she is still a dragon hunter, fierce in ability, relentlessly slashes the beast causing it to spin and jump trying to avoid the painful annoyance. Cole fearlessly attacks the other leg, putting all of his force into his mighty blows. Lavellan meets his ability in hopes to trip up the dragon, maiming its stand. The party, constant in their attacks awaits Morrigan's entrance to the fight. Conjuring magic and building her will, Morrigan digs deeply calling on every power available to her as her metamorphosis begins. Knowing their match will take to the skies even the gods to take note of their arrival.

One kick steady into the air, her flight takes form.  
>The dragon wounded, senses the challenge as it spreads its wings to meet the taunt in the skies. Two mighty beasts tumbling throughout great height. Clawing at each other. Morrigan means to catch the beast and throw it to the ground burying it in the untouched sands. The rest of the party runs outside the walls to meet the plan, ready to finish off what life might remain in the dragon. As if it written, she gains the advantage over the guardian as its flight weakened from the fight below Morrigan's stretched claws grab the beast pushing it toward the sands below. Landing it hard on the sands sending a cloud of dust into the air. She falls out of the dragon form gracefully, remembering the hit she took in the battle of Corypheus.<p>

The beast lay broken still breathing. Not much more effort needed to finish off what will it has left. As the party thrashed the beast with magic's and sheer will. The guardian finally gives up its fight letting go its life. A mighty force blasts past them all, knocking them to the ground. Whatever spirit guided the beast, it has left as well. The party searches through the remains, gathering what the beast had collected over the years. Wounded, and out of potions they make their way back to the unknown temple.

The doors released from the magic that bound them, push open. The friends met with the old smooth stone of the temple. A dank stale smell of a mossy dust fills their senses as a wide passage leads them toward a large room. There are no emblems, no mosaics, nothing to show that this is an elven ruin. Plain and simple sand stone set in large blocks resembling the same design they saw at Solasan Temple in the Hidden Oasis. Echoes are the only thing to meet their steps.

In the center of the rear wall lay another large set of doors with the images of two dragons, one head held up the other looking down. On the sides of the simple stone door, a cache of potions set discreetly in a wooden crate.  
>"There is magic behind this door, faint. Does the door stand unprotected?" Morrigan lets on what whispers she finds.<br>"What protected it lay in the sands outside Morrigan. But what defends it on the inside?" Muin releases her knowledge of where this door now leads.  
>"So this is our entrance, into the Fade?" Revealing her understanding, Cassandra catches on.<br>"It leads to place within the Fade, yes." Muin answers the preparation.  
>"It won't let me see!" Cole shouts out in frustration, his face showing a look of pain.<br>Muin steps over and places her hand on the spirit, "your moment will come, Cole. Be at peace."

Morrigan pushes the stone doors open with the help of the others.  
>Placed in the middle, on a raised platform, with two smaller mirrors on each side, stands the eluvian. The stones on the floor leading to the eluvian are familiar to Lavellan as she once walking a similar path in the Temple of Mythal.<br>"This must be the ritual to open the door." Morrigan says in a positive tone looking over at Lavellan who is very familiar with the magic. She does not even feel the need to take a moment, she walks around the room and each stone lights up blue as she puts meaning into her steps. Wrapping all the way around and up the steps to land on the last piece, right in front of the door. The whole room glows blue for a moment; the magic then falls light.

The door glows blue, opening to the young elf, the magic now hers. Morrigan looks on as a mother would to a daughter knowing more than the elf does at this moment and proud of how far she has come; still in fear of what choice she will make, she holds faith. The rest of the group meets her up on the platform. Lavellan takes a deep pause. Releasing her breath, she steps through her door.


	13. Now Above

Now Above

Walking through the door, the stone shines dark as it only could in the Fade. The silence here stirs within ones very being. Power sparks in the reflections of the glistening stone. Sorrow weeps down the stone.

"Lavellan", Morrigan's voice firm echoes in the silence. "If there were ever a time to still your heart." Morrigan showing worry, for the elf. Muin puts her hand on Morrigan's arm to stop her from what she might say next.

The friends walk slowly, uneasy in the unknown around them as they approach a set of steps. The stone holds old elven carvings and begins to twist into the shape of a place lost long ago. It's cold and dark. Echoes mark the openness of this haunted place. The feeling in the room maintains tense as Muin holds firm to Coles arm. Looking on he stands fixed in the moment. Morrigan is beginning to get visions, she knows something.

"Lavellan, you must meet them alone, but we will be close enough to hear your call." Muin breaks the heavy moment with a calm, allowing ease to enter the space. Lavellan is radiating with feelings that are pulling, pushing, tearing, and crying within her. Her blood, shaking in her veins with anticipation as she walks up the steps slowly. She can feel the pull, calm and inviting. Each lights up a bright glimmering, with the forgiving placement of her foot.

Reaching the top, the image has come into its full form. A place worthy of a god set before her eyes. It glistens dark, but the splendor is clear. The beauty nothing like the fade back at Adamant. Pieces whole, but somehow still not complete. She feels light here, like she should lift upwards. Her feet touch the surface but the sensation is more like a glide than a firm placement. Settling herself, focusing on what is real on what is solid. _The stone_ she whispers finding herself again, her heart now back in rhythm with her breath.

Spirits begin to stir. Coming into focus as she walks forward. At first a vision, a conversation between two, whispers of an old war scared, shadowed in red light, a trace from a time before. Walking up closer spirits are crying over a loss, but the image is hard to make out. The area is starting to radiate in an awoken light. Arches frame the structure and light seems to gleam from the cracks in the old darkened elven stone. The timid elf continues to walk up closer to a form set in the middle of the room. The statue of a wolf, howling upwards.

As if they were never there, the traces of spirits all disappear as the silence falls hard. Walking to the statue, invited by a light shining from behind. Beginning to feel aware something she knows warms her. Uncertain, she walks behind the statue, a slight passage holding the light towers high out of sight. The ground has become like the forest, grassy and warm. Walking down the passage, stone begins to come to light. The passage opens up to a room that towers in height. Its beauty overcomes her for a moment. Crystal spires rising up past the ability of sight. The song is beautiful, almost pulling her out of her own skin as the light shines down illuminating her form. Unfocused by the towers, Lavellan finds herself caught off guard. Something is with her now. Looking over, a statue … no a person is standing shaded in an unlit passage way. Fading off leaving whispers of a song behind. Lavellan quickly pulls her sight from the spires and runs to follow.

The passage way begins to warm with a slight light, just as the others. This one opens up to a ruin she knows all too well. Nodding her head a bit, reminding herself that this place forms differently than below. The two halla tower over the old bathe, the water draws her in, filling with desperate emotions, breath stilled. She feels the sensation, the tingling on her skin wrapping around her, drawing her in.  
>"You hunt well, Lethallan." The voice calmly states.<p>

Her heart stops, frozen completely. This moment held heavy, her chest fills, bursting for a moment. She is oddly calm, impassioned. Her skin warms and mind unwinds; regaining focus, a breath.  
>"Solas?" her voice barely making it past her lips.<p>

He steps out of the darkness and meets her in the same spot he had left her many months before. Now standing face to face with the mage, half of her wanting to just grab him and embrace him, the other wanting to pull every answer from his mind. She stands unsure of this moment. She thought she was facing a fight, is she still? He stands guarded.

"What are you… she starts to say, but knowing better she finishes her sentence… why here?"

"This is the answer you are seeking, is it not?" He states in a calm way, both hands lay at his side as if to say, I surrender - The truth.

"You are who can help? What they … all of them have led me to?" She is overcome with emotion, the pieces of herself she thought so guarded, every one of them… knew. Morrigan, Muin, and Cole had been preparing her for this moment all along; all of them directing her in differing positions. Compassion for healing the hurt of two souls lost from each other. Muin for the future of the elven people. Morrigan for the distrust in godly matters, always the voice to create doubt, focus, and direction. Her thoughts broken, knowing he is probably even reading them, had she ever been alone?

"Why did you leave? Why are you here? Who are you?" The questions she can no longer contain spilling out of her mouth, uncontrolled.

Keeping his distance from the woman he almost lost himself to, he beings to address her in complete control, stilling his heart. These questions you deserve the answers to, Lethallan. Please know that I had every intention to tell you. However, I had to consider that if you knew, then you would be a part of what was to come and I couldn't force that on you. As you can see, how could it be? I have a duty. I cannot forsake them for my own desires." He begins.

"Force me? Solas I am capable of making my own decisions." Lavellan pleas.

"Yes, but with so many distractions, the unknown magic in your hand, Corypheus, the people, you had so much weight on you, how could I have trusted that you would not regret whatever decision you made?" Solas argues humbly.

"I guess you could not have known." Lavellan drops her guard, showing her understanding.

"I have longed walked this world. I once roamed the halls of kingdoms long-lost to the manipulations of the humankind. I once stood as a Pantheon for our people, the burden you have come to know, I have carried. I made choices as you have, trying to shape the world for our people while trying to protect what we had from the grasp of those who wanted to destroy the magic we hold. Our own people, Lethallan turned against us." His passion starting to weigh heavy in his voice. "The spirits were in danger, dying, I had to protect them. I tried to reach the people, chased away as the dalish could not turn their sights from the lore that they had become to believe in. The more they held to it Lethallan, the more real it became. Even as I fought for their very freedom, the same fight you suffer through now. Pushing themselves further and further away, scattered. They were in fear. Without their gods, the imagery they held higher than themselves. All they saw was revenge, refusing the spirits. They turned away and everything we tried to protect fell, once again."

"Fen'Harel take the dalish," looking up at him with full eyes. "They caused our people to fear you, twisting the story." _He must have had great respect for you, touched by rebellion and you didn't even flinch. If ever a time to still your heart, does she know… when the times comes for your choice, refuse vengeance…_voices echo in her memory. Abelas knew as well? She had been connected to them all along.

"Yes, they call me, Dread Wolf. Refusing to see reason, they hid behind the same fear that kept them from their own freedom." Solas now standing with his hands clasped behind his back. Glad to see understanding. "When I awoke to see everything I had caused." His voice drops into his heart.

"Did you really think I would run, Solas?" Lavellan reminds him of the friendship they had.

"I did not know, in times of passion we, we sometimes act on things that we should think on. You yourself said that you were not sure if the magic from the orb had changed you. How would you be making a clear decision, a free thought?" Solas argues mildly. "But now you come of your own ambition, your own choice. You could have stopped, you could have ended this, but you fought more. You made a choice to free a world that you do not even fully understand. Your wisdom over shadows those who came before you. Your choices are not made of selfish ambition or lust for revenge, you are a pure free spirit Lethallan and you allow the spirits to hold importance in this world."

"It's the right thing to do, Solas. I have come to know, spirits just as I have come to learn of the people. There is good and it overcomes." Lavellan stands firm, in her own position, no longer a shadow of someone else.

"Yes, and you could have dismissed it. You could have taken power for your own intent. But, you never hardened your heart." Solas says looking down as if to shadow shame.

"Well, I am here now, Solas." Lavellan falling easily into the moment.

"That you are and now you know… part of the truth." His voice breaks through her thoughts. "I have deeply betrayed you. But, I cannot be free Lethallan. I made a choice that has caused ruin and nearly took everything away. The people are not free and cannot be without our magic. It was my fault that Corypheus had the orb. I could not keep it from his grasp. When I awoke to see what I had caused, how could I look away? How could I just tend to my selfish desires when so many suffered because of me? How could I then, make you a part of it?" Holding for a moment he asks her the question that weighs heavy over everyone. "What do you plan to do now?" He searches her over to learn of her purpose.

The decision that she has prepared for, now right in front of her. A fate hanging in the midst.

"Solas, you fought with us. You helped. Those are not the actions of someone who deserves seclusion. You made a choice to help." Lavellan eases her gestures and slowly walks closer to Solas, showing no sign of fear. She places her hand delicate on his begging cheek, "you don't have to do this alone" and with more love than he has ever known she whispers the sweetest words he has ever heard, "I forgive you." Placing her forehead gently against his, she means him to feel her and know that she intend him to know the voice of the many who still hold hope in the return of their freedoms.

In that moment the room filled, full, bursting brightly. His body glowing in a blue haze. The darkness that held the form around them was lifting and the beauty of old elven magic envelops the room. The song bursting through. A soul worth holding. Softly he turns his face towards her lips, his arms wrap around her waist. His body embracing hers, holding her tightly against his form. His gaze focused effusively on her, full, filled with passion. Becoming lost in the moment, he let's go and places his lips fully on hers.

Now shining with the same glowing aura, she softly releases Solas as she becomes, enveloped in a whirling spirit, which seems to soak into her, her breath creeps from her lips, in a golden smoke. The elf holds her chest tight, as it fills with an essence that surges through her. The others come running in, drawn by the magical force released, and all stand in awe as Solas and Lavellan fall to their knees. Solas is still holding to her as she falls partly into his arms.

Morrigan looks on in shock. Muin calmly smiles. Cole, holding Muin's hand, is glowing brightly in his smile. Cassandra draws her sword.

Lavellan looks up at Solas, Solas looking back in shock, "I didn't..." he begins but then stops to see if she is, still … she. Helping her to her feet. He looks on in worry, confused himself not expecting her to accept him. Lavellan pushes up into a stand, looking herself over.  
>"What do you feel?" Solas quickly spits out.<br>"I feel… I feel… complete." Lavellan says looking herself over not clearly knowing what just happened.

"So it has begun." Muin states tenderly.

"They get to begin, if he chooses to forget the parts that made him dark. She forgave so he could be free." Coles begins to unravel the moment. "Purity, beating down in her blood old and new. She chooses her purpose. He doesn't have to be alone." Cole whispers the words like a heartbeat.

"Dread Wolf? But, I sense Mythal, where is…" Morrigan states in confusion. Focusing her thoughts, she can now hear the story from the whispers left.

All around them the story plays out, as traces of spirits show the history lost in stories. Solas, a young elf holding pride in all his people were. Leading wars to gain freedom for their people. He was there, when Andraste fell, unknowing that she had already gave up the spirit of Mythal to her child. A gift that she kept from him, betraying him and sending him back, alone once more.

For ages he slept, only awoken when she needed him, left alone when she finished with his aid; feeling the weight of all the blood on his head. He was just a companion, a wolf to protect. Let out of his cage when she chose. Again, the call pulled at him and as he awoke, there stood one with great power. Alone, he could not face him, with no one there to aid him the heavens broke open and the world met with war against the very demons he kept away. Only this time, he left before betrayal came and he took what should have been given to him long ago. Something refused by the very friend who called herself Flemeth. He'll have to do it alone.

Images of Flemeth releasing Mythal into Solas fade away as Morrigan holds her head in her hand, speechless for a moment, her thought pushes forth. "Flemeth is gone? You, you now carry Mythal?" Morrigan feels a sense of relief and disbelief.

"She meant it to go to you, her daughter as she had done for many years. Her wish for vengeance has long ruled over the lands, betraying any who stood in her way, hoping you would carry that sentiment on." Solas looks to answer the witches concerns.

"So, I am bound now, to you? What about…?" Morrigan trying to gain understanding in a moment that floods her with emotion, she holds her tongue. Unsure if she should reveal her thought.

"You have served us in far greater terms than your mother, Morrigan. You protected our people's secrets at any cost. You have proven yourself for far too long to be without your freedom. I do not seek to bind you, but I do hope that you will continue to aid us in bringing peace to the people." Solas gives a slight bow never breaking eye contact with the witch as if to say will be watching regardless, but not with malice. "Flemeth may very well remain, she has tasted immortality and still seeks her vengeance. By refusing to give up Mythal, she has kept the others locked away, so that only she remains. Refusing to return Mythal to her place among our people driven by her purpose. If she does have a plan, I do fear what may come. Urthemiel was one of the tainted ones after all."

"So the gods truly are, held in the beyond?" Cassandra asks seeking a knowledge lost to them all for so long.

"The spirits placed safely in the beyond, to keep them from the corruption. There are whispers that remain, known as the forgotten ones, passed along into those who walk the world below. Some corrupted by the blight, others seeking refuge in the bodies of those willing to protect them. They cannot enter this place and have been lost to us, as they either carry on to help the people below or had become corrupted by those who called to them. " Solas explains to the Divine, knowing her words hold great weight over the people.

"So you didn't trick them all? Locking them all away?" Morrigan distracted and fascinated connecting the whispers of those who served with the words now coming from Mythal.

"It was not trickery for those who are safe, but the others, the forgotten ones may hold a different sentiment. It was a mistake to leave them, however, at the time a choice had to be made. Mythal had fallen and waiting any longer could have led to corruption of them all. Do we risk corrupting everything, or do we save what we can?" Solas expresses the conflict that they all know the implications of.

"But, isn't Mythal a goddess?" A question only to be asked by a society still enveloped by the Chantry tales.

Solas smiles at the Divine, knowing her thirst for understanding. "Spirits do not convey gender, only those that carry them do."

"What spirit does she then carry?" Cassandra finally able to speak the question left only to her understanding.

"She carries what she has had all along, a pure spirit now aided by a spirit trapped long in one indentured to another." He looks to Lavellan with an overwhelming sense of love.

"The spirit you held for so long stands… by your own side." Muin smiles, knowing that her friend is the right choice to lead what may come.

Morrigan looks to Muin, "You knew, you knew the whispers as well?" Morrigan reveals that she did indeed mean to lead Lavellan to the Dread Wolf's calling, but she never thought it would be to rule beside him.

"I did indeed know her calling, we are all connected through the song, as you are now to us, Keeper of the Well. She loves him and the power that lay in that love could be the only thing strong enough to forgive. She could have betrayed him, but now she will protect us." Muin smiles, knowing that good things are to come for their people.

"It was not his plan. He meant to carry it himself, but she forgave him, she allowed him to be free." Cole shines brightly. "He only knew betrayal something he feared would come, so he left to keep her from that choice, he didn't know, he thought it better this way." Cole reveals the age-old pain the elf carried, from the times betrayed by those he gave aid.

"I never intended you to…" Solas begins. Realizing the beauty still remains in her spirit. How could he have expected them to not be drawn to her?  
>"I'd never abandon you, wolf, you'd been such a good friend. Tel'abelas" Lavellan smiles reading his thoughts.<br>"You still surprise me, ma sa'lath."

She held up to every ritual, every test. She did not need to prove herself, she did what needed done in pureness and without the history of old to misguide her ambition. A vessel truly worthy to help win the rebellion below. With that, a chance is coming for their people, a time they have waited thousands of years for, no longer in the hands of personal vendetta. Soft voices of the spirits that stir sing the song that carried them through waiting for this day.

Melava inan enansal

ir su araval tu elvaral

u na emma abelas

in elgar sa vir mana

in tu setheneran din emma na

lath sulevin

lath araval ena

arla ven tu vir mahvir

melana 'nehn

enasal ir sa lethalin

Taking her hand and guiding her to an area that looks to be Skyhold. It's changed somehow, boasting the magic of Tarasyl'an Te'las. The veil broken, she can see everything as one. The two lovers arriving to their kingdom. He remains holding her hand looking upon her beauty. Still lost in the realization that she never gave up on him. The two embrace, an impassioned kiss. A kiss sealing the fate of all. A kiss sealing her fate, forever.

Undressing her, he finally forgets the pieces making him dark, letting go into the arms of the woman he fell so deeply for. The woman who did not abandon him. A deep kiss, his fingers grabbing on the soft round parts of her flesh, pulling her closer to him.

Muin, grabs Cole's hand and leads him away toward the eluvian.

"I helped." Cole'says while walking off, hand in hand with Muin, as they lead the others out of the eluvian and leave the lovers to enjoy each other, before the next day dawns.


End file.
